The Chaos Tree
by Swordstress
Summary: Brotherhood AU: The year is 2041, and the Brotherhood continues to keep the supernatural world under control and hidden from society. When all out violence suddenly begins sweeping the country, Dean, Sam and Caleb must marshal the entire might of the Brotherhood to find the cause and stop the brutality before the country descends into chaos.
1. Chapter 1

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_

_My thanks go to Ridley C James for creating this amazing AU that I love so much, and for RCJ and Tidia's creations in this wonderful 'verse!_

_This tale is set after my first Brotherhood AU story, The Guard Changed at Dawn, and will reference characters and situations there occasionally. Most of those instances will be explained in the current story, so this tale stands on its own._

_On with the show!_

* * *

Ethan Matthews leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His office wasn't as large as his rank might demand, but it suited him right down to his booted toes. And he was exhausted. He'd been working for two weeks straight with no days off, and it was showing. Rumbled clothing, disorderly hair, dark circles imbedded around his eyes, dark and light gray scruff; he was a mess. He was even coffeed out, which was a feat he hadn't believed possible.

Ethan had been a Houston cop for decades. Despite turning down several offers of promotion after reaching the rank of Lieutenant, he'd finally succumbed to overhead pressure twelve years ago and agreed to man the Captain's chair. A love for the streets and an extreme hatred for paperwork had kept him from accepting the position for years. On the cusp of his sixtieth birthday, however, his twin brother Elijah had finally convinced him he could be the boss and still work the streets. All he needed to do was budget his time and rely on one of the uniformed officers to help with the paperwork. It had sounded easy, but as Ethan knew; sounding easy was rarely _actually_ easy. While schedules, budgets, reviews and other paperwork kept him busy, he still managed to work at least one case a month. It kept him sharp on the team dynamics in his division, and his squad loved that he wasn't a behind-the-desk manager. He could get his hands dirty with the rest of them.

There was another aspect of his life that his squad knew nothing about, a larger part; being a member of the Brotherhood. He'd been fighting the supernatural for decades, far longer than he'd been a cop. He'd been raised in the Brotherhood by his father, Jarrett Matthews. His father had died following others who were rebelling against the Guardian of their time, Pastor Jim Murphy. His father's best friend, Griffin Porter, a man who had been a presence in Ethan's life since he was born, had led that treasonous faction. It had taken Ethan years to come to grips with his father's betrayal of everything they held dear. The fact that his father had died trying to save the next Triad was a deep solace he'd finally been able to accept. And while he'd lost his best friend Gideon to Griffin's nefarious schemes, he'd gained additional friendships which he relied on and treasured. Forgiveness and reconciliation with Porter had come gradually, a fragile fence mended before the older man's passing.

"Captain?"

Giving an internal sigh, Ethan straightened and opened his eyes. In the doorway stood one of his division's best detectives; Lance Renault. "Problem?" he asked with a weary smile.

"Considering the last couple weeks, that's a loaded question."

Stepping inside the office, Lance dropped into one of the broken-down chairs fronting Ethan's desk, weariness and exhaustion evident in every muscle of his body.

"When was the last time you got some sleep?" Ethan asked.

Lance shrugged. "Been a couple days. I've had as little as everyone else, so I'll wait till midnight, when it's my turn."

Ethan nodded. His team had been driven to the edge by an unprecedented tornado of violence that was sweeping the city. Every division, every shift had been worked to the bone, and still Houston was in chaos. In all his years of law enforcement, he'd never seen anything like it; never _read_ of anything like it either. The pandemonium hadn't started on a low simmer and built. No, the madness had simply exploded into a white-hot fire two Saturdays ago and it had been non-stop mayhem and death ever since. They'd had to call in the National Guard for assistance and reinforcements.

Looking at his watch, Ethan said, "Then in two hours you've got some down time. Make sure you get at least six solid, capisce?"

"Only if you get six too," Lance retorted. He knew his captain; Ethan would make sure everyone got sleep, even if it was at his own expense.

"We'll see," Ethan equivocated with a smile. "What's up?"

"Got Cam Stolts in interrogation."

"Cam? What's he done now?" Cam Stolts was a career criminal who'd been in and out of prison since he was seventeen. Now, at fifty-two, he was a fixture in the Vice Division of Houston PD, usually dealing in pornography and running a fairly efficient circle of prostitutes. He watched over his merchandise and was fair with their cuts of the action. Girls and boys lined up to work in his stable. Considering the violence and mayhem in the city right now, he was harmless.

"That's just it; he hasn't done anything. Except he's confessing to an accidental murder from when he was fourteen years old."

"Fourteen?" Ethan frowned. Cam had been in trouble for years, but he wasn't capable of murder.

"We got perps coming out our ears, and frankly, we don't have time for this. But he won't leave until he sees you. Can you come to interrogation; give him … absolution or something?"

"If he's confessing to murder, then no can do. Can you get someone in from Homicide?"

"They're up to their eyeballs, just like us."

Ethan sighed and pushed himself to his feet. His body protested the action as his muscles had been pushed far beyond their stress limits. "All right, let's hear what he's got to say."

Following Lance out through the squad room to the interrogation rooms, Ethan had to force himself to stop yawning. He hadn't slept in … well, he couldn't remember the last time he slept. He needed to get some shut eye soon, or he would be useless.

Inside the observation room, he stepped up beside Lance and stared through the two-way mirror. Two men were sitting at the narrow table; Lieutenant Daniel Gutierrez on one side, his back to the mirror, and a distraught man on the other. It took Ethan a moment to recognize the red-faced, puffy-eyed man as Cam.

"It was an accident," Cam insisted, between sobs. "She was startled when she came downstairs and I was in her living room. She turned to run, tripped on the lounge chair and went down hard. Then she was dead! Honest, I didn't touch her, but she would have been alive if I hadn't been there." Cam dropped his head on the table and sobbed for all he was worth.

Moving to the door, Ethan stepped inside the room. Motioning for the Lieutenant to get up, he nodded his thanks and sat across from the sobbing man. "Cam?"

The man's head rose. Tears ran in steady streams down his cheeks. "Cap'ain, I didn't mean it; I didn't touch her. But she's dead cause I needed money."

Ethan nodded. He believed that Cam hadn't done anything but break into a lady's house to get some money for drugs, cigarettes or beer, and there was no attorney from the DA's office who would charge Cam for an accidental death that had occurred thirty-eight years ago when he was a minor. But right now, the man before him was distraught and he needed to do something to calm him down.

"Cam? I'm going to have to lock you up."

Cam Stoltz nodded slowly. "Ain't nothin' more than I deserve, Cap'ain."

"We'll sort this out later, all right?" Ethan rose and nodded to the Lieutenant, who helped the prisoner rise and they left the room.

Lance Renault stepped inside, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Put him…" Ethan shook his head. They were more than full up in the cells. "…somewhere. We'll look into the incident later and decide whether to hand him over to Homicide."

"Sounds like an accidental death."

"In the commission of a felony," Ethan stated.

"He was under age and the statue of limitations has long since lapsed."

"We'll check it out; see how she actually died when we have the time." Ethan stepped out of the interrogation room and headed back to the squad room, Detective Renault at his side. Shaking his head, he murmured, "What the hell is going on?"

"Captain?" Lance prodded.

"This is the fourth spontaneous confession we've had today."

Lance nodded. "Yeah. Been happening in other divisions too."

"Got deets?"

"Not many. Just heard the talk. Know of one incident: Miguel Ortega in burglary is interrogating this perp that he caught red-handed with car parts from Louie's Garage down on Main. It's a Class A Misdemeanor, for which he won't even get a year in prison, and he starts confessing to things he's done since he was eleven."

Ethan couldn't get his mind around what he was hearing. Career criminals kept loads of secrets, they didn't start confessing to everything they'd ever done in their lives. It just didn't happen.

They had just stepped into the squad room when he heard the scanner; "Code ten-seven-one, code ten-seven-one; officer down, officer down. Unknown injury. Viceroy's Cabaret, 2034 Richmond."

Ethan took one short scan of the nearly empty squad room and said, "Lopez, you're with me."

Lance, who was already reaching for his jacket, stopped abruptly. "Captain?" He'd been expecting to take the call.

"You're down in two and you need it. I'll take Lopez and wrap this up."

"But…"

"You're in charge here." Ethan ducked into his office for his coat and was out the door followed by uniform officer José Lopez.

* * *

_Two Weeks Ago…_

Diana Ballard swiped her hair back off her sweaty face and huffed out a huge breath. It had taken almost three weeks to clean up after the chaos that had hit Baltimore a month before. The violence had hit suddenly and torn the city asunder. The jails and holding cells had been overflowing with humanity. As one of the leading Lieutenants of the City Wide Robbery Unit, she'd been on the front lines during the mayhem, had arrested more people during those weeks than she had in nearly her entire career.

In her early days on the Baltimore Police Force, her career had been on the fast track. She was smart, ambitious, good-looking, and she'd used all those assets to her advantage. After her rookie training, she'd become a beat cop, patrol cop, and been promoted to a Detective in Robbery at only twenty-seven. By the time she was thirty, she gotten a transfer to the higher profile Homicide Division. She was already scheduled to take her Corporals exam when her career trajectory hit a speed bump named Dean and Sam Winchester.

In two-thousand and six, she'd been partnered with Detective Pete Sheridan. She'd thought the world of Pete, and their attraction to one another quickly escalated to lovers. That relationship had blinded her to his nefarious side activities. He'd murdered people right under her nose, and when she found him out, Pete tried to convince her to frame the Winchesters. The entire debacle ran the gamut from Sam Winchester escaping, to her seeing a ghost, she and Sam finding the murdered Claire Becker, and to Pete removing Dean from custody with the intent of murdering him. The finale had was her being forced to kill her partner rather than let him murder Dean. For the cherry on top, she'd let the Winchesters go free. The Internal Affairs Investigation had been long, grueling and thorough, but the end result was she'd been cleared of any wrong doing, even in losing the prisoners. After all, Sam was on record as having escaped from a uniformed police officer posted outside his interrogation room, and Pete was the one who signed Dean out of the holding cells. However, her career in Homicide was gone.

She'd been transferred back to the Robbery Division where she'd worked for years to polish up her reputation and regain the trust of her peers. It was nearly five years before she was allowed to take the Corporal's exam, and since then she'd climbed through Sergeant to attain the rank of Lieutenant, though Captain's bars remained elusive. Despite doing a stellar job for the last thirty years, someone else was always a better "fit" for the Captain's chair. But she'd made the most of her time on the Baltimore Police Force, and could retire with a respectable pension and the good will of her fellow officers.

Now, it was almost midnight, and she'd finally finished the last of her paperwork. Leaning back in her chair, she stared at her computer screen, frowning. She still didn't understand what had happened; it wasn't unseasonably hot for this time of year. Hot weather usually resulted in short tempers and more calls for the police. There had been no racial or political upheavals, there were no ongoing gang or drug wars. But still, on a clear Wednesday night the city had erupted into violence. Every department on the force had been stretched to the limit. The odd thing was, that on the flip side, hundreds of people had come out to help the wounded and the victims of that violence. They brought blankets, pillows, food and water to those in need. They even brought hot food to the beleaguered police department and donated to the department in record amounts. Yes, there were always people who helped during the city's tough moments, but this outpouring had been exceptional.

Shaking her head, she swiveled in her chair and looked back at the two sergeants behind her. "You two almost done?"

Sergeant Meghan Cavanagh shook her head. "Still got the domestic rape and the burglary on fifteenth to write up."

"I got the home invasion on third; the family dinner that ended abruptly," Sergeant Daniel Rizzo stated.

Diana nodded and said, "Cavanagh, hand over the rape. If we work together, we should be out of here in half an hour."

Meghan Cavanagh organized the pages and handed over the file folder. Eyeing the Lieutenant, she asked quietly, "Do you know what happened?"

Diana gripped the file; the question was packed with innuendos and curiosity. Ever since the Tony Giles case, she'd somehow gotten the reputation of being the go-to person for weirdness in the city. She hadn't sought the title, had tried to distance herself from those types of cases, but they seemed to find her anyway. Once you saw the weird and unnatural, you couldn't look the other way. It had given her old eyes.

Eyeing both Cavanagh and Rizzo, who had turned around at Meghan's question, she confessed, "I truly don't know. I've never even heard of anything like what happened here a month ago." She shook her head. "I've seen gang wars, racial wars, protests that ended badly, more violence than I'd care to recall. But nothing like what we saw here last month."

Meghan nodded slowly.

"Global warming?" Rizzo suggested, with a sly smile.

Diana barked out a laugh. "As good an explanation as any." Swiveling back around to face her computer, she said, "Last one finished buys the first round."

She heard Sergeants Cavanagh and Rizzo attack their computer keyboards with renewed energy. Instead of doing the same, however, Diana turned her eyes on her phone. There was someone she should probably contact about all this. There was a question that plagued her; was what happened here in Baltimore truly as weird as it seemed? Her gut told her yes, logic said she should do a bit more research before she made that call. Turning back to her computer, she started typing … fast. After all, she really didn't want to spring for the first round.

* * *

_Singer Salvage - One Week Ago…_

Jody Mills put down the telephone, frowning.

"Something wrong?" Jackson asked.

Jackson Cull was a hunter that had been sidelined from the job nine years ago when a black dog clawed his left side and leg, severing several tendons and incurring major damage to his body. Since then, he'd helped hunters by doing research and manning the phones at Bobby's old homestead. His partner Steve Walker, who'd been injured before him, helped with the running of Singer Salvage and aided hunters in the ongoing battle against evil. Mark Wright had come to the Yard more recently after he'd been injured saving a family from a rawhead. Together, they did whatever they could to help hunters in the field. Right now, everyone was gathered around the kitchen table having lunch.

"I'm not sure," Jody said, returning to her chair and the remainder of her meal. "That was Donna."

"Donna Hanscum, from Stillwater?" Steve asked.

Jody nodded. "She said Stillwater just went through a very weird experience. They were hit with a wave of lawlessness and violence the likes of which she's never seen in her twenty-eight years on the force."

Mark frowned. "Like…?"

"Record burglaries, home invasions, murders, citizens driving erratically, exiting vehicles stopped in the middle of the street to attack other people. Bystanders suddenly punching out people around them."

"Has it been unseasonably hot this year?" Jackson asked.

"I don't think so. Donna wouldn't have called if that had been the case. No, this is something more. She also said vice has been through the roof; clubs packed out and violence escalating, people having sex anywhere and everywhere, even the public parks."

"Road trip?" Mark quipped.

Jody rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "She said the other odd thing is the police department has received over three hundred thousand dollars in donations to the police benevolent fund."

Steve's eyes bulged. "In Stillwater, Minnesota? They have that kind of money?"

"No, they don't. Even after formal fundraisers Donna said the most they've ever raised is twenty-five thousand."

Steve put down his sandwich. "You think Stillwater has been hit with a spell of some kind?"

Jody shook her head. "That's the weirdest part. She said that the violence started out of the blue three weeks ago, then after twelve days, it abruptly stopped."

"Kind of sounds like a spell," Jackson observed.

Jody shrugged. "I suppose it's possible."

"Does she need some support?" Mark asked.

"How are the people?" Steve asked at the same time.

"Donna said many of them seemed to be in shock, as though they don't know what happened."

Jackson shoved his plate away. "They're all right?"

"There are plenty of wounded, some deaths. People are almost hysterical with grief over the death of loved ones. They don't seem to comprehend what happened." Jody took a sip of her iced tea. "I think we should do some research, take a look at what happened there, see if anything like sudden outbursts of violence has happened before."

"Accompanied by sudden bursts of altruism," Mark added.

"What happened with the police benevolent fund?" Jackson asked, as knowing gleam in his eye.

"Most of the donations have been rescinded," Jody remarked with wry humor.

"Yeah," Jackson nodded rising from his seat and gathering the lunch things to put away. "I've got a part to deliver. I'll make quick work of it and meet you all in the library."

Jody picked up the remnants of her sandwich.

"You want to go to Stillwater?" Jackson asked as he placed his dishes in the sink. "We got the research covered."

"Yeah, maybe. I want to see what's happening on the ground. Maybe I'll find something out."

Mark rose. "I'm going with you."

Jody nodded slowly. "I think that would be good."

Steve pushed back his chair and rose. "You want to call Dean?"

Jody considered that a moment before shaking her head. "No, not yet. I want to make sure there's something to call him about before I pull that trigger. Besides, Donna may have already called."

Jackson nodded. "Then we'll see you in a couple of days. Call us with any additional information you uncover."

"Will do." Jody tucked the last of her sandwich in her mouth and took her plate to the sink. Looking to Mark, she said, "I'm heading home for a bag. I'll be back in thirty and we'll hit the road.

Mark nodded and headed for the stairs and his own packing.

With a nod to Jackson and Steve, Jody walked from the kitchen, grabbed her coat and went out the front door. She was glad she would be seeing Donna, and also curious. Was this something supernatural, or simply a case of humanity's rising violence quota? Guess she was about to find out.

* * *

_Two Days Ago…_

Riley Adams spun quickly to the left, dodging a blow aimed for his head. Breathing hard, he whipped his shotgun around and fired. He and Bradley had the foresight to fill their cartridges with silver rather than the usual rock salt, and he was glad they had. Vetalas weren't usually this aggressive.

He and Bradley Lowell, his long-time hunting partner, had come to the small town of Chappell Hill, Texas to take care of a pair of Vetalas.

Vetalas were serpent-like creatures that appeared human, but reverted to their serpent form when killed correctly: a silver dagger through the heart and twisted. They were territorial, hunted in pairs and usually avoided all other creatures, even others of their own kind. Together, a pair would scope out a territory, establish a lair and hunt in relative solace. Their fangs held a venom that paralyzed their prey, and once incapacitated, the victim would be taken to the lair where the Vetalas could feed on their blood for days before the captive died.

Vetala weren't normally aggressive, relying on their wiles and cunning to escape other supernatural baddies or hunters. Riley had been expecting to dispatch the two preying on this small town of six hundred residents without too much difficulty. But when they'd arrived in Chappell Hill, he and Bradley had found six Vetala rather than the normal two. And instead of their usual modus operandi, they were attacking the residents and killing them outright, feeding in a gluttonous abandon. When confronted by Riley and Bradley, they hadn't run, but attacked with extreme prejudice.

Bradley dove to the ground under an attack by two Vetalas, rolling twice before he came up on his knees where he could fire his shotgun. "We need … to fall back," he panted, using his weapon to ward off the long talons of a Vetala male.

"Roger that," Riley grunted. He stabbed one of the Vetala in the chest, but wasn't able to twist the blade and kill the creature. "Ideas?"

Bradley swiped at one of the Vetalas, climbed to his feet and maneuvered over to Riley's side. "We're going to move slowly … shoulder to shoulder."

"Forget knives," Riley panted. "Guns."

Bradley dodged to the side and drove his knife into another Vetala, then kicked it back with his foot. A second snuck in from the side and nearly got him with its long, sharp talons before he ducked and danced back a few feet.

Riley gave another creature a kick to the midsection, then fired his semiautomatic in a short, arcing bursts that knocked back three others. "Come on!"

"On your…"

Suddenly all six Vetala stopped fighting.

Riley and Bradley stumbled slightly and froze, stunned at the sudden cessation of battle. Panting heavily, they watched the serpent-like creatures stare at one another. Reptilian eyes wide, they seemed to be in some sort of shock. Slowly one Vetala staggered past two others and leaned into what was probably its mate. The other two slowly shuffled drunkenly to their own likely mates. Then abruptly, each pair turned on its heels and raced away, leaving the two dumbstruck hunters staring after them.

Mouths dropped in surprise, Bradley finally said dryly, "Well, we sort of let that opportunity slip through our fingers."

Riley snorted out a laugh. "We could have killed them all when they were standing there staring at us."

Bradley laughed as he relaxed his fighting stance. "This stays between us."

Riley chuckled, shook his head and started picking up their equipment. "You want to guess what just happened here?"

"You mean why Vetalas, who are usually somewhat reclusive, who sedate their victims rather than attack them, were acting like Wendigos on steroids?"

"Yeah, that." Riley stood, his eyes grave. "And why suddenly stop?"

"It was like they woke up," Bradley said.

Riley turned his head and stared off in the direction the Vetalas ran. "You think they might have been under a spell, or something?"

"It's possible. No way to know without testing their blood." He waved a blood-coated knife in the air. "We could do some research on hypnotism, brainwashing spells, something like that."

"Yeah," Riley murmured. With a sigh, he said, "Come on, let's check out their lair, see if anyone is left alive."

Bradley shoved the shotguns and knives into a duffle and slung it over his shoulder. "You don't think they went back to their lair?"

"Doubt it," Riley said. "We'll be careful, but I think they were freaked enough to leave the territory."

Since Vetalas stay close to their lairs when feeding, Riley and Bradley had already scoped out where it was, and had confronted them nearby. Carefully, they made their way back to the cave. Before entering, they waited outside to see if the Vetalas were inside, but they heard nothing, not even the sounds of animals or insects. Leading the way, Riley ducked inside. After a moment, he moved in further, followed closely by Bradley. As it was night, their eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, and they moved with careful precision further into the cave structure, looking for a bigger feeding ground. They found it several yards in.

Bradley grimaced at the two bodies lying close to the back wall. It was obvious they were dead. There would be no rescue for them. There was another lying near a large rock, hands and body bound with a chain, eyes closed. He looked over at Riley, who lifted his semi-automatic and nodded. Bradley moved quickly and carefully across the floor. As he got closer, he saw a second body lying curled in on itself on the backside of the rock. He checked the pulse on the female captive, then rounded the massive stone to check the male on the far side. He looked back at Riley and nodded; they were both alive. Leaning down again, he tapped gently at the male's cheek.

It took a minute, but the captive moaned softly. Slowly his eyes slid up and widened as his gaze focused on Bradley. "Run, run!"

Bradley patted the man's hand and said, "Shhhh, you're all right. They're gone," _I think_, he added to himself. Quickly he picked the lock on the chain binding the man to the rock and helped him sit up.

"My girlfriend, my girlfriend…"

"Hey, calm down, she's alive," Bradley murmured. "I'm going to check her right now." Quietly he scooted around the boulder and picked the lock on her chains and shifted her gently onto her back. Softly he patted her cheek until a soft groan sounded.

"Mandy," the man cried with a sob, "Mandy."

"Urmmpphh," the girl muttered. Very slowly her eyes opened.

Bradley smiled. Her eyes were dull and filled with pain. "Hey. We're here, you and…" he looked over at the man.

"Hunter," he man murmured.

Bradley forced himself not to smile at the irony as he said, "You and Hunter are going to be fine, Mandy."

Finally, the girl sighed. "Hunter?"

Hunter scrambled gingerly around the boulder and said, "I'm here, Mandy, I'm here."

It wasn't until she saw his face that she finally smiled even as she started to cry.

Bradley said to Hunter, "Stay here a minute, see if you both can stand. My partner is by the entrance," he pointed to Riley, who waved his hand. "We're going to figure out how to get you out of here."

"Those things…" Hunter began.

"I know, I know. We'll figure it out. All right?"

Hunter nodded. Turning he began to help Mandy sit up, unthreading the chains from around her body.

Bradley hurried over to Riley. "We're going to have to drop them at the hospital. Lost in the woods?"

Riley nodded. "We're searching for Nycticeius Humeralis, the Evening Bat."

Bradley stared a moment. "Just know that off the top of your head, huh? You know the oddest stuff."

Riley rolled his eyes. "As an Archeologist, I'm in a lot of caves. You get to know your neighbors."

"Guess so," Bradley acknowledged with a soft laugh. "Okay, the car is close by. Let's get them there as fast as possible."

"Can they walk?"

Bradley nodded. "Yeah, I think so. At least Hunter can."

Riley couldn't help his smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Bradley murmured. Hunters who rescued a victim named _Hunter_. Quickly he jogged back over to Hunter and Mandy. "Can you guys walk a little bit?"

Hunter's eyes were wide and shocky as he took in the two bodies along the back wall, though he kept his body between them and Mandy. His gaze jerked to Bradley, who merely shook his head. Tears filled Hunter's eyes. Taking a moment to get himself under control, he finally said, "Yeah, we can walk a little ways."

Bradley nodded. "Then let's go, shall we?"

Hunter's eyes went back to the other two who wouldn't be leaving the cave with them. Finally, he stood carefully and helped Bradley raise Mandy to her feet.

Bradley lifted Mandy's left arm and laid it over Hunter's shoulder. "Just hang on, all right? We're going to take this slow."

Mandy nodded. Together, all three walked to Riley, who led the way out of the caves, constantly vigilant in cause the Vetalas returned. When they got outside, Riley continued to lead the way through the woods, down a small, sloping hillside toward the forest's frontage road.

"Here," Bradley said, as he opened the back door to their SUV.

Hunter helped Mandy inside, and was just climbing in beside her when she asked, "Eric? Beth?" He looked back at Bradley.

Bradley leaned in slightly. "They were with you?"

Mandy nodded.

Giving Hunter a look and seeing the answer to his unspoken question in the younger man's eyes as to who the other two were in the cave, Bradley said, "I'm so sorry. They didn't make it."

Mandy dropped her face into her palms and started sobbing.

Hunter rubbed her back while Riley opened the SUV's back hatch and dumped in his and Bradley's duffels. He then pulled out two pairs of binoculars. After hanging one around his neck, he walked with the other to the driver's side and climbed in, handing Bradley the second pair across the front seat. Turning to face the back seat, he said, "Hunter, Mandy, this isn't going to be easy, but you will survive." The two survivors looked up. "Unfortunately, you can't tell anyone about those creatures."

"Wha … what?" stuttered Hunter.

"The creatures that kidnapped you, and Eric and Beth, are something people don't understand," Bradley said gently. "They're like vampires or werewolves."

Mandy's eyes widened. "Vampires?"

Riley smiled gently. "See? What would happen if you told the doctors at the hospital that vampires kidnapped you? They'd put you in the psych ward."

"But … what are they?" Hunter asked.

"They're a creature of mythology called a Vetala. It's a serpent that has also looks human."

"A … snake that looks human?"

"Pretty much," Riley confirmed. "We're taking you to the hospital to get treatment. You're going to say you got lost, took shelter in a cave, and got bit by some snakes."

"Can you do that?" Bradley asked, his eyes on the distraught girl.

Mandy nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I guess," Hunter said. "But … will those things … come back?"

"No, they won't be coming back," Riley assured the pair. After exhausting a feeding ground, Vetala rarely returned, instead opting to establish new feeding areas elsewhere.

"You're sure?" Mandy whispered.

"Yes," Bradley said. "We're going to kill them."

Hunter and Mandy stared at that statement, until Hunter finally nodded. "Yeah, okay … good."

Mandy sniffed. As her eyes filled with teas again, she asked, "Eric and Beth?"

"We're going to take care of them," Bradley said. "Don't worry, we'll make sure they're found and taken home."

Riley started the car, and they drove to the hospital in silence. When they pulled up near the emergency room doors, Bradley climbed out of the car and jogged inside.

Turning around in the driver's seat, Riley eyed the two huddled together in the back. "I know you're frightened, I know this experience is going to haunt you for awhile. But you will be all right, okay? Be there for each other, talk to one another. Don't clam up. Communicate. If you need some help dealing with all this, call this number…" Riley handed over a card with a phone number. "Some very good people will answer. They'll get you whatever support you need, if it's a doctor, or a counselor, or a psychiatrist. They can help."

The automatic doors of the hospital opened and four orderlies and two doctors followed Bradley out of the hospital pulling two gurneys.

"I don't know how you found them," one of the doctors was saying.

"People really go bat watching?" an orderly asked.

"Definitely," Bradley said. "They come out at night. Sometimes good comes from darkness."

Soon Hunter and Mandy were out of the car and lying on gurneys. Hunter reached out and grabbed Bradley's arm. "Thank you, for finding us. I'm going to call that number."

Bradley patted Hunter's arm. "Good. Do it. Ask for Ben, all right?"

Hunter nodded as he was whisked away.

One of the orderlies said, "The police will want to talk to you. You did a great thing here."

Riley watched the young woman jog back through the doors in the wake of the other personnel. Turning to his partner, he said, "You want to get something to eat?"

"Yeah, sounds good. I left my number with the orderly," Bradley said. "We can take the police to the other two when they call."

Together they walked back to their SUV and climbed inside.

"We're going to have to track them again," Riley commented.

"Won't be easy. I have a feeling the Vetalas were freaked enough to run for a long while."

"Yeah," Riley sighed. After driving for a few quiet minutes, he said, "We need to look into what happened.

Bradley nodded, his eyes on the shadows and dark buildings passing by. "Yeah, we do."

* * *

_Now…_

Ethan Matthews pulled to the curb a block south of Viceroy's Cabaret, sirens on silent. He flipped the lock on the ignition switch and jumped from the car. Lopez was already out and near the hood, waiting. Adjusting his bullet proof vest, Ethan walked up, eyes sharp, taking in the situation.

The sidewalk was a wreck; broken chairs, glass and trash mounded in heaps. Three cop cars were sitting haphazardly outside the club where the patrolmen had obviously parked in a hurry and rushed inside. They could hear the din from inside the club a block away.

Matthews backtracked to the trunk of the car. He pulled out the equipment for dispensing tear gas and handed it to Lopez before pulling out the Long Range Acoustical hand held device. In their infancy, LRAD's could damage a person's hearing or cause long term sensitivity to the ear drum. Now, the LRAD was an effective way to shut down a riot without bodily injury or death, to either civilians or officers.

Shutting the trunk quietly but firmly, he said, "Let's get closer, take stock. If the fight is winding down, I don't want to use the tear gas."

Lopez nodded. He slung the gas dispenser rifle over his shoulder by its strap and lifted his gun, which was filled with rubber bullets. His police issue side arm was holstered but ready to draw should the need arise.

Ethan led the way, moving along the building walls until he got to the darkened Cabaret windows. Quickly he peeked inside, then pulled back. Experience gave him the ability to assess the room at a glance, and the result wasn't encouraging. The front room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There were bodies in motion everywhere; falling, rising, flying and stumbling. He hadn't been able to see the officers or the wounded. The situation needed to be contained - now. Glancing back at Lopez, he lifted his acoustical devise.

Lopez nodded and put in his earplugs. When he was protected and had lifted his weapon again, Ethan put in his own earplugs. Lifting the LRAD, he whipped around to face the window and pulled the trigger.

Rather than the usual disorientation, nausea, vomiting, people staggering and holding their ears, the violence appeared to escalate. Ethan knew he couldn't call on anyone for back up; there wasn't anyone to call. Turning to Lopez, he nodded. The officer lifted the tear gas riffle to his shoulder and fired twice. One small, concentrated canister of tear gas went to the back right of the large room, and the second went to the middle left. As soon as the canisters hit the ground, they went off.

Confusion and screaming erupted as people rushed for the exit en masse. Ethan and Lopez flanked the doors, and as people stumbled out, they quickly zip-tied their hands together and let them stagger into the street or stumbled to their knees. A couple tried to attack, but Ethan wasn't taken off guard. He'd fought monsters for decades; he could handle some tear-gassed aggressives.

When a cop stumbled out the door, Ethan grabbed his arm and slung him around behind him, then went back to suppressing more combatants.

Suddenly a large, muscled man that stood somewhere around six-foot-five charged through the door, yelling bloody murder. Quickly Ethan stuck out his foot, tripping the man. Shoving the zip ties into the hands of the officer behind him, he grabbed the man's large hands and shoved them upwards behind his back, effectively driving the man forward and onto his knees. Enraged, the large man leaned forward and climbed back to his feet, pulling Ethan forward and off balance. Screaming, he bucked backward then shoved his head back in an attempt to knock Ethan in the face. But while Ethan was too seasoned for that trick to work, the man's action and his height caused him to stagger back, off balance.

"Damn it," Ethan growled. He needed to stop this guy, quick. Hauling back, he kicked the large man in the knee, dislodging his knee cap and causing the man to drop to the ground, screaming in pain. He nodded in satisfaction. Taking out the knee was a time-honored way to put down a raging bull.

Scuffing between the crowd was starting up again as the affects of the acoustic device and the tear gas wore down. Ethan was trying to tighten a thick zip tie on the large, moaning man when another person attacked him from behind. Matthews grabbed the man's arm, bent over and tossed his attacker over his shoulder so he landed atop the man he'd kicked in the knee.

"Captain!"

Ethan spun just as another man swung a large table leg at his head. Ducking, he gut-punched the man directly in the solar plexus. The man went down. After fending off three more attackers, Ethan dodged to the side and pulled his weapon. Rubber bullets, his gun was filled with rubber bullets. He couldn't use his police issue if he wanted to keep the body count down, but if the acoustic weapon and the tea gas hadn't worked, how effective would rubber bullets be?

People were still pouring out of the Cabaret and he couldn't find his cops. Making a decision, he turned and raced back down the street to his police vehicle. Popping the trunk, he pulled a gas mask over his face and pulled out two canisters of sleeping gas. They didn't use sleeping gas often, as neurogenic general anesthesia wasn't popular with anyone, criminal nor the human rights advocates. However, he had neither the man power to subdue this out of control mob, nor the physical reserves to take out everyone on his own. He couldn't even find his own men.

Running back toward the violence that ramping up to a fevered pitch, he lifted one of the canisters. Threading a finger through the pull ring, he was just about to yank the metal ring and toss the canister when everything and everyone just stopped.

The silence in the street was so profound, it took Ethan by surprise, literally stunning him. One second before human beings were kicking, hitting, pounding and assaulting one another, and suddenly every single one was standing there wearing an expression of stunned disbelief.

Gathering his wits about him, Ethan pulled his police radio and flipped a switch to megaphone. Holding it to his mouth, he stated in his most authoritative tone, "Everyone, sit down right where you are _now_. Right now, drop your butts to the pavement or street and sit. Now, people!" Many complied, but a few were staggering around in a daze. "Don't make me tell you twice. Sit. Down." He strode forwards with authority and strength. When he came up to a man who looked at him, utter confusion in his eyes, Ethan pointed to the ground and said, "Right here; you can sit right here."

The man nodded and dropped down.

Lopez as well as two additional officers were walking around, helping people to the ground.

Ethan walked up to one of them and said, "Officer…" he glanced at the name badge, "Williams; we heard a ten-seven-one call. Where?"

The officer pointed back to the building.

Ethan glanced around and saw Lopez looking in his direction. Ethan jerked his head to the building, and Lopez jogged inside.

Ethan flipped the switch on his radio back to the police band and said, "Dispatch. Emergency triage needed at 2023 Richmond Avenue downtown; Viceroy's Cabaret. That's 2023 Richmond Avenue; Viceroy's Cabaret."

"Roger that. Ambulances?"

Ethan assessed the crowd. As far as he could see, it didn't look like a trip to the hospital would be needed for the patrons. But there was a wounded officer inside. "One for now."

"Roger," Dispatch stated. "Stand by."

Walking over to another group of aimlessly milling people, Ethan gently but firmly took various arms and helped people sit down. He saw the familiar face of one of his vice officers. "Cavelli, run inside and see about tape, bandages and aspirin. If they've got rubbing alcohol, get that. If not, whiskey will do.

Cavelli gave his captain a small smile, turned and hurried inside.

Ethan began assessing the injuries of the over a hundred people sitting in the street or on the sidewalk. There were broken noses, the promise of black eyes, bloody noses and cuts and bruises a plenty. Broken arms, knife wounds and dislocated shoulders were smattered here and there.

Lopez walked up and said quietly, "We got two officers out here that appear as dazed as the people here. Whatever's been happening in this city, in there…" he jerked his head toward the Cabaret, "it affected them as well."

"Take them both inside," Ethan murmured. "As much as they're able, have them report on what happened here. Maybe we can get some decent info on what's going on."

"Think it might be some sort of chemical warfare?"

Ethan met Lopez's warm, serious brown eyes. "Let's hope not."

Lopez studied Ethan for a moment, then nodded and walked away.

People seated on the ground were now starting to turn and help one another, either grabbing for shirts to stymie the flow of blood, or reaching for bandages as Cavelli made the rounds with the first aide supplies. The sound of tires had Ethan turning to see a Paramedic Truck pulling in front of his police vehicle. Immediately he jogged over and started helping set up the triage site.

When the crowd was beginning to get help, he finally went inside Viceroy's Cabaret. Aside from the room dimensions, the place was unrecognizable from the low-lit shady dance club of former recollection. The recessed overhead lights, usually only on when the cleaning crew came, revealed broken tables and chairs, a lopsided stage, velvet red ropes strewn across the floor, shredded drapes and glass shards everywhere.

Lopez walked over. "We got an officer with a knife wound in the shoulder."

Ethan nodded and followed Lopez over to the fallen man. Bending over, he said, "You hangin' in there?"

Officer Bonner nodded. "Be better soon as this pig sticker is outta my shoulder, Cap."

Ethan chuckled. Bending over, he helped the officer to his feet. "Then let's get it done. There's an ambulance outside." He nodded to the other two officers. "Take him outside and help the other officers triage the crowd. I'll be out in a minute."

The two officers came forward and steadied Bonner and they walked outside.

Lopez watched the trio leave. "Those two responded to the first ten-thirty-two. Said there were a few patrons fighting, but the rest looked to be going about their business. They said the moment they'd cuffed the rabble rousers, the rest suddenly started getting ugly. That's when they called for backup."

Ethan eyed the gaudy glasswork high on the wall that hid the observation rooms. "Anyone have time to secure the surveillance videos?"

"After I checked on Bonner, I jogged up there and locked the doors. We can check it out now, if you want."

"I'll check it. Call in and see if Jacks is still in the squad room. If she is, have her come over and copy the files. Then oversee outside, coordinate the officers and have them get as many accounts of what happened as possible. Then get emergency management on the phone, see about opening the Convention Center on Avenida De Las Americas now. There are emergency supplies there; cots, water, medical supplies. I'd like everyone's blood drawn, see if we can figure out what's causing this."

Lopez nodded and started for the door. Suddenly, he stopped. "Why did everyone stop?" Turning, he looked at Ethan, his eyes worried and confused. "They just stopped, like they woke up."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's like they were hypnotized or something. Captain, what's happening?"

"I don't know. Maybe the surveillance will give us a clue, maybe the blood analyses will."

"Yeah, maybe," Lopez said slowly. Turning, he disappeared out the door.

Ethan stood for a minute or two, considering his squad and what he needed to do to keep them together and assured that they were more than up for the task of keeping order. Lopez's question showed an undercurrent of anxiety he hadn't realized was permeating his division. As a hunter, he was used to the unknown. His team wasn't. In law enforcement there were techniques and procedures to deal with almost any situation, even methodology for dealing with the unexpected. But what was happening now in the city was unprecedented, and it was creating an undercurrent of unease, and he needed to address it immediately.

With a sigh, he turned and went to the staircase behind the bar and up to the observation room. Lopez had locked the door. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he hit speed dial nine.

"What," groused a rough, deep voice.

"Judge, I need an expedited search warrant."

Judge Marshall Young sighed. With the city in turmoil, he hadn't gotten much sleep in the past … he couldn't remember how long. Tonight was the first night in ten days that he'd gotten in bed before eleven, and now he was on the phone with one of the city's leading Captains. He knew Ethan Matthews was probably more tired than he was, so he pushed civility into his voice and said, "Low down."

"Unexplained riot and brawl at Viceroy's Cabaret. Over a hundred combatants now subdued outside. Officer José Lopez secured the observation room. I want a warrant to go in and check the surveillance."

Judge Young read between the lines. "This is another outbreak, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But this one was different." Ethan broke off, trying to make sense of what he'd seen.

"Ethan, tell me."

Ethan sighed. "The violence was all out. We used the LRAD and it did nothing, we used tear gas and nothing. I was just about to deploy the sleeping gas when it just stopped."

"What do you mean, stopped?"

"I'm mean all violence stopped; completely," Ethan confirmed. "Everyone is staring around at one another, looking confused as to why they're even there." He shook his head, though obviously Marshall Young couldn't see. "Anyway, this is one of the first places where violence has erupted that has top notch surveillance equipment. I hope our computer expert Emma Jacks can help us figure out what happened."

"Then stand by for a copy of the warrant. Since this madness started, I keep blank copies in my library," Marshall stated. "I'll text you a copy and fax one over to the Staff Inspector, the Duty Commissioner, and the DA's Office."

"Thanks," Ethan murmured.

After a moment, Marshall said, "You sound exhausted, Ethan. When did you last sleep?"

Ethan smiled. "I don't remember."

"Get some. You won't be doing anyone any good if you run yourself into the ground."

After a moment, Ethan said, "I … think it's over."

There was a startled pause before Marshall said, "What?"

"I don't know why or how, but I think it's over. When everyone just stopped… It was like an ending."

"An ending," Marshall said slowly. "Your gut telling you that?"

"Yeah, I think it is."

Another silence followed. Finally, Marshall said, "You've got the best street instincts I've ever seen in the field. I pray you're right. Give me two minutes."

Ethan stared at his phone, then sagged back against the wall outside the Cabaret surveillance room. When he'd said that it was over, it had just come out, from his gut. But now that the words were out there, he knew it was true. Whatever weirdness had hit Houston, it was done and gone. Eyeing his phone, he noted the time was just after midnight. Not late enough to stop his call, truth be told. But the recipient wouldn't be pleased. Hitting speed dial one, he waited until a sleepy voice answered before he said, "Eli, we need to talk."

TBC

* * *

NOTE: Thank you for reading this first chapter of The Chaos Tree! Any comments and reviews would be appreciated.

This story will contain some different languages. I used Google Translation to get the right verbiage with most of the languages. Some were very ancient, so I did the best I could. For those who read Latin, getting the verbiage and word order correct was difficult, so I apologize right up front for the gobbledygook! But I've included the English for every language. So please enjoy the historical authentic intent of including the languages and ignore the errors!


	2. Chapter 2

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 2

.

"Winchester!"

Dean grunted as he rolled his eyes. He was underneath the sweet body of one of the last great muscle cars to have rolled off the line: a 1971 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am, with a 455-cid V-8 engine. The Firebird featured the biggest engine ever put in a pony car, and Dean was in heaven.

Since owning his own garage, Dean had become known throughout the Midwest for his talent and love of working on vintage vehicles. He could fix them on a shoestring, and muscle car owners came from all over to have him work on their treasured cars. Still, the majority of his business was more modern vehicles, so this was a sweet moment. The owner had driven into his garage early this morning saying something was wrong with the engine, and that the car wouldn't get up to two hundred miles per hour. After taking time with the owner to admire the car, Dean had practically shoved him out the garage door in order to spend some quality time with the Firebird.

"Winchester!" came the insistent shout.

"What!" Dean yelled back.

"Phone!"

"Who?!"

"Lady! Said she needed to speak with you!"

Just then Dean's cell rang. "It's a conspiracy," Dean grumbled. "Someone just doesn't want me to work on this beauty." Rolling himself out from under the Pontiac, he jerked his cell from his pocket and barked, "What!"

"You're in a mood," Sam said.

Dean could hear his brother's smile through the phone. Grunting, he crawled up off the creeper and stood with a groan.

"Under a car, huh?"

"A 1971 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am."

Sam wasn't Dean's brother for nothin'. "Wow, a 1971 Pontiac, huh? It still in good shape?"

"Sam, this car is a thing of beauty. Been running for close to seventy years and still purrs like a kitten."

"Then why is it in your garage?"

Dean growled. "Even the good ones need tune ups."

Sam laughed.

"Winchester!"

"Who's that yelling?" Sam asked.

"Mark. Someone's on the phone."

"Oh, then call me back as soon as your done."

"Something up?"

Sam was silent a moment, then confessed, "I'm not sure."

Dean stopped walking toward the office. "You're not sure? You?"

"Just call me back," Sam said, and disconnected.

Dean stared at the blank phone a moment, then continued to his office. Mark wasn't anywhere in sight, which was a good thing, cause Dean hated being yelled at, and he might have given back as good as he'd gotten. Snatching up the phone receiver lying prone on the desk, he growled, "Yeah?"

"How professional."

Dean smiled. "Diana Ballard. You comin' to haul me back to Baltimore?"

"Like that ship didn't sail thirty years ago."

Dean chuckled. "How's the family? You're daughter still teaching at Johns Hopkins?"

"She received tenure last year. She's over the moon."

"And so are you," Dean smiled. "Congrats."

"Thanks. And how are your boys?"

"Good, Ben's working at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, JT is currently working a photo shoot for Lifestyle Magazine, and Jimmy is conquering the world at Ames Industries."

"While getting his MBA, I take it," Diana commented.

"Master's of Technology and Entrepreneurship," Dean clarified. "Apparently the MBA has become too mundane."

"He needed more mountains to conquer, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Something like that." Even though Diana knew of the supernatural and hunters, he didn't reveal James' real reason for opting out of an MBA; to spend more time hunting with his prospective Triad and training to develop his clairvoyant skills with Sam, Caleb and Onida, Caleb's significant other.

Caleb had met Onida almost a year ago when both Triads were on a hunt in Washington State. The hunt was centered near the Yakama Indian Reservation taking down two covens of ancient witches called the Tah-tah-kle'-ah, or Owl Witches. It was one of their toughest and most surprising hunts, and Caleb had met the woman he wanted to send his life with. That she manipulated energies, auras and magnetics made her a perfect fit for Caleb and the Brotherhood.

"So," Dean continued. "What's up?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I should have called," Diana confessed. "I spent the last couple of weeks talking to other cops who know about your kind of thing; Marina McBain of the NYPD, Ed Stoltz from St Louis, Daniel Gunderson from Rockford Illinois, other law enforcement, even Mara Daniels from Little Rock."

"How is Mara?"

Dean and Sam had met Public Defender Mara Daniels on one of their riskiest hunts when they were young; when they'd deliberately gotten themselves thrown into jail to help an old army buddy of their father's. The ghost of a sadistic, murdered prison nurse was killing inmates and when Mara had come to speak with Dean about the charge, he had surprised her by asking that she find out where Nurse Glockner was buried instead of discussing his own case. She'd ended up giving him and Sam the information as well as feeding Special Agent Victor Henriksen of the FBI the wrong graveyard location to lead him astray. Henriksen had been dogging the Winchesters, determined at that time to take them in, dead or alive. The law man later had a personal encounter with the supernatural that had made him a believer. Occasionally Dean still wondered whether Henriksen would have stayed with the FBI or become a hunter if he hadn't been killed by Lilith.

"Her firm is still raking it in," Diana stated. "Damn private practice. She should have stayed in public service."

"You know that doesn't pay," Dean said with a smile.

"True enough. Anyway, the general consensus is there's nothing here…"

"But your gut says something else," Dean finished.

"Yeah," Diana confirmed softly.

"Tell me everything."

Twenty minutes later Diana finished. "I'm just saying, violence like that just doesn't stop on a dime, not ever. Yes, I admit; some riots _seem_ to stop as quickly as they began. But what many view as _quick_ is actually a petering out, not an instant stop like this appears to have been."

"So this was out of control violence…"

"Like I haven't seen in almost forty years on the job."

"Then it just stops…"

"As though someone flipped a switch."

Dean frowned. It was true, that violence could seemingly end as abruptly as it started. Irrationality drove a mob; people got caught up in a mob mentality and just started punching. But that moment could be over in a second if just one person stepped away. But Diana would know that even better than he would. She'd been a cop for decades, and she'd seen something different here.

"Okay, let me see what I can find out. Maybe there have been other instances like this."

There was a moment of silence, before Diana asked, "There isn't another Apocalypse, is there?"

"No," Dean said firmly. "Those days are over."

"Good," Diana breathed. Then she muttered, "I knew I should have retired two years ago."

Dean laughed. "You would have missed the action."

"Maybe," Diana admitted. "Thank you, and thanks for not dismissing my suspicions."

"I trust your gut," Dean stated. "I'll call when I find something out."

"Talk soon," Diana finished, and hung up.

Dean drummed his fingers on the desk for a few minutes, frowning. Diana wouldn't have called unless she was _certain_ something odd was happening, his kind of odd. Abruptly he pulled out his cell and redialed Sam.

"Took you long enough," Sam groused.

"The call was from Diana."

"Really? Last time we talked with her was, what, twelve years ago?"

"Something like that; the killings in Alleghany National Forest."

"Right, Pennsylvania. How's she doing?"

"Wishing she'd retired two years ago."

Sam chuckled. "Why did she call?"

Dean explained the violence in Baltimore and Diana's reason for calling. "So," he said when he finished, "what are your thoughts?"

"Well," Sam said slowly, "that's kind of the reason I'm calling."

"You're calling about Baltimore too?"

"No, Stillwater."

"Minnesota? Donna Hanscum?"

"Donna called this morning, told me the same type of thing happened in Stillwater. Started fast and ended on a dime. She said Jody and Mark are in town, taking a look around."

"You gonna look into this?"

Sam smiled. "You mean so you don't have to?"

"You are the Scholar of the Brotherhood," Dean stated, trying hard to sound serious and not eager to get back to the Trans Am.

"Yeah, yeah, I see right through you," Sam declared. "I'll check through some historical records, see if anything like sudden bursts of violence have happened before. You … get back under the car."

Dean grinned. "Thanks Sammy. Talk to you later." Snapping the cell closed, he quickly ran back to the Pontiac only to find another pair of boots sticking out from under the car. Growling, he barked, "Get your ass out from under that car, Mark."

* * *

_Houston, Texas_

Elijah walked into Rice Coffeehouse located near the Houston Police Department. It was early, before seven in the morning, so the place wasn't yet filled with college students dosing themselves with caffeine after a long night. Still, there were several business men and women standing in line or sitting at the Coffeehouse's wood-like plastic tables. It took him a moment to find his brother seated near the front windows, chin resting on his palm, eyes closed.

"Hey."

Elijah smiled as he sat down. Ethan hadn't needed to open his eyes to know he was there. "Hey, big brother." He picked up the coffee waiting for him and sipped while watching his twin. Both of their dark heads had gone gray years ago, though Ethan's hair remained somewhat longer than his own. Like Sam, the other man had cut his hair when he'd accepted his promotion to Captain, saying his new position demanded some dignity. Both their faces had leaned out with age; the jaw squaring up and new lines appearing around the eyes and mouth. Right now, however, Ethan looked worn and tired, darkness etching new lines of fatigue and weariness around his eyes. "I know it's been a tough few weeks for the police. The news is full of it. You all right?"

Ethan opened blood shot eyes. "Yeah. I'm heading home to get some sleep after we talk. I need you to look into something for me."

"Me?" Elijah said, his eyes widening. "About the violence in the city?"

"Sort of." Ethan took a bracing gulp of coffee and slowly lowered the cup back down onto the plastic table. "I think something made the violence happen."

Elijah frowned. "Made it happen," he repeated. "How?"

"I don't know."

Nodding slowly, Elijah took another couple of sips from his cup. "Okay."

Ethan stared at his brother a moment, then smiled. He hadn't realized until just this minute that he'd needed someone to just accept his gut instinct. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not questioning me or telling me I'm crazy."

"I'm a professor of Ancient Studies and a member of the Brotherhood. I'm used to weird." Elijah studied his brother's face a moment more, then asked, "What happened?"

Ethan told Elijah about the violence in the city, how it was much more erratic and uncontrolled than the news stations had made it sound. "From listening to the news, you would have thought the outbreaks were a political riot or a gang war." He shook his head. "It was so much worse than that."

Elijah felt guilty that Ethan had been going through all this for the last couple of weeks, and he hadn't offered any support or help.

"In addition to the general mayhem, we had perps confessing to everything they'd ever done in their entire lives." Ethan snorted softly. "Talk about the need for a confessional."

"Couldn't you have just sent them to church?" Elijah joked, though the question was somewhat serious.

"Believe me, I thought about it," Ethan said with a derisive snort. "But these were crimes, not sleeping with your wife's sister and stealing fifty bucks from your mom's purse. We were forced to deal with the confessions as best we could with our limited manpower. Needless to say, it's been exhausting." Leaning forward into the table, he asked, "Have you heard about anything like this?"

Elijah frowned. Taking another pull from his coffee, he said, "No, and yes. I've heard of spells and magics that can make people do crazy things. But that's usually done on a much smaller scale. For something to affect an entire city, especially one as large as Houston…" he shook his head, "It will take some looking into." Eyeing his brother he asked, "Did you call Caleb?"

Ethan shook his head. "No, not yet. I'm exhausted, haven't been able to think it all through yet. I need some time to sort through the facts, put some flesh on the bones of my instincts. Right now all I got is a feeling."

"That's something right there," Elijah stated. "We've both been around long enough to trust our instincts."

"Yeah, but the violence is only one part of the equation. On the flip side, people were coming out of the woodwork to help the soup kitchens, the homeless shelters, donating to local clinics, even bringing food to the police station. The shelters have enough food stockpiled to last through a three-month hurricane."

"You know," Elijah mused, frowning, "the University has been getting large donations from alumni and businesses for the past couple of weeks."

Ethan leaned into the table again. "Exactly. These have been over the top donations, for the shelters, the fire department, police department, suicide hotline, even the churches have been raking it in."

"How did you find out about all this?" Elijah asked.

"At first you just hear things. Someone has a relative working for St. Paul's and they mentioned the donations, someone else has a cousin in the fire department, and they tell of some huge windfall. I started getting a little suspicious a few days ago and gave a cursory look into other acts of generosity," Ethan smiled, "in my spare time."

"I'll see if I can find more."

"Thanks. And there's one more thing. Last night I got a call about an officer down at Viceroy's Cabaret…"

"On Richmond?"

Ethan looked startled, and not pleasantly so. "How do you know about that place?"

"Students, Ethan, I've got students."

"Oh. Anyway, we go down there and it's another case of all out warfare. We use the Acoustic weapon and it does nothing to stop anyone from throwing a punch. We try tear gas, and nothing. I'm about to use sleeping gas when all of a sudden … it just stops. Everyone stops in their tracks looking stunned and confused."

Elijah shook his head. "What do you mean, they just stopped…?"

"Like someone turned off the oven or the coach yelled time out."

"You think it's a chemical attack of some kind?"

"I don't know. We triaged on site, then everyone was carted off to the Convention Center for further assessment. We're getting people some counseling and taking blood. We'll have it analyzed, see if some sort of timed chemical weapon is in play."

"A chemical weapon with a timed duration in the body?" Elijah asked. "Is that possible?"

"Probably," Ethan said, shrugging. "Drugs have always had a runtime; dosages that last certain lengths of time before you need another pill; administering drugs with a hard run time like two hours, four hours. There have been medical leaps in the last ten years to more precisely regulate dosage methodology to prevent overdosing. Why not create an hallucinogen that lasts two or three hours then stops?"

"Did all the other acts of violence have an instant stop?"

"I don't know, I don't think so. Usually we stopped them." Giving his face a vigorous rub with his hands, Ethan said, "Maybe I'm running in the wrong direction with this being supernatural."

"Even if a timed dose of medication or a hallucinogen were possible, it wouldn't stop in every single person at the same time," Elijah said. "People have different metabolisms. Some will metabolize food, drink, even drugs at different rates than others. In any group, even if it's only a group of two, both people will probably metabolize a timed drug differently."

Ethan shrugged. "That's the rumor from Narcotics; this type of drug would hard-stop regardless of individual metabolism."

"Wow," Elijah murmured.

Ethan felt the tension that had been burrowed in his shoulders and neck for the last few hours ebb away. "So you think there might be something here…"

"I think we should trust your instincts. But there's a lot more data we'll need to compile. I'll start checking historical records for random madness and violence in large crowds, and you're going to head home, take a long hot shower, and get some sleep."

Ethan huffed out a tired laugh. "Yeah." He rose. "I spent the last three hours looking through surveillance footage of Viceroy's last night, hoping to see something."

"Did you?" Elijah asked, walking with his brother to the front door.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. I'm so tired I'm not sure what I was looking at." Ethan rubbed at his eyes again. "I'll go through the footage again once I've had some sleep."

"Then head home. I'll get started and let you know if I find anything."

Ethan smiled. "Thanks, and say hi to Jane for me, will you?"

Elijah watched for a moment as his brother walk slowly away, then he turned and headed to the nearby parking structure to retrieve his car. He was tempted to give Sam a call, but Ethan hadn't wanted to contact Caleb yet, so he would do some digging on his own first. Random acts of mass scale violence – he'd never heard of the like. But he had access to some very ancient texts. He would see what he could uncover.

* * *

Caleb rolled over and yawned. A glance at the clock told him it was close to eleven in the morning. However, he didn't feel guilty about sleeping late, as he and Onida hadn't gotten back from their hunt until four.

"Time is it?" came a soft question.

Turning back onto his side, Caleb smiled at Onida, who was curled in close. "Eleven."

"Why are you awake?" she groused.

"Got to get going, let Dean and Sam know what happened with the Banshees."

Onida yawned and stretched. She'd been on enough hunts over the last year to know the protocol. "All right." Slowly she rolled over and climbed to her feet.

Caleb smiled and watched as she disappeared into their bathroom before shifting onto his back.

He was surprised about how easily he'd gotten used to sharing his bed, his room, his home and his life with someone. He loved coming home from a hunt to find Onida there, cooking some Native American dish, or botching some new recipe that had interested her. He loved how she'd drop him like a hot potato the moment they stepped into Dean and Juliet's home, rushing off to spend time chatting with her newfound friend. He loved their flights to Washington where she would pass on her guardian knowledge to Lomasi and Jacy, two children that had survive their kidnapping by the Tah-tah-kle'-ah and had been born with gifts like Onida. Sure, there were moments when he was caught off guard, like when Onida had shifted his things in the bathroom without telling him, like when he'd come home from a hunt and she'd rearranged the dining room so that dishes could be brought in from the kitchen more easily. But he'd learned long ago that _things_ could be changed, rearranged or disposed of. What he couldn't lose in his life were his people.

Of course, that didn't mean they hadn't had their fights. Getting used to being in one another's space was challenging, especially when they'd both spent decades living on their own. But Caleb, far more than Onida, was used to sharing his life. He'd spent years taking care of Dean and Sam when they were kids; they'd been a triad long before they took on the official positions within the Brotherhood. Conversely, Onida had spent years alone in her house protecting her people from the Owl Witches. He tried to be sensitive when she needed time on her own, when she needed to be away.

A couple months ago she'd chosen to take their usual trip to Washington on her own. Despite his head's rationalization, his heart had been hurt by her suggestion. Secretly he'd been worried she would decide to remain there, would return to her life on the Yakama Reservation. While she'd been gone, he'd expended an enormous amount of energy and strength refraining from calling her every hour, giving her the space she needed. Dean knew his best friend's state of mind, and he and Juliet had insisted he come over for dinner every night she'd been gone. Juliet had even demanded he spend the night once, offering solace and soothing words: "She's going to be fine; she just needs to find her way." But Caleb had been worried.

Though Onida was supposed to have been gone a week, she'd returned in three days, surprising Caleb as he was attempting to distract himself by training with Max. Their reunion had been a sweet balm to his frayed nerves.

Later, when they were in their bedroom, Onida had said, "I'm sorry."

"What…?" Caleb panted as he tried to get a fresh breath of air through Onida's frantic kisses.

"I'm sorry I wigged out a little."

Caleb chuckled as he returned her kisses. "I … understand…"

Onida pulled back, her face serious. Pushing against Caleb's chest, she said, "How can you say that? I insisted on going to Washington without you."

Caleb pushed himself up into a sitting position. Smiling, he said, "I do understand. During your first years as guardian, you had interaction with the tribe, and of course, your parents when they were alive. But you were on your own for a lot of years. It may appear as though I've lived on my own," he swept a hand out to indicate his home, "but the truth is, I'm rarely alone; haven't been since I was thirteen. I've had Mac, John and Pastor Jim, and always Dean and Sam. And now Joshua, Max, Ben, Johnny and James, Ryker; so many others. So while yeah, I'm getting used to changes here in our home, I've always been ready for you."

Onida felt a radiance in her heart that was hard to contain. Smiling, she cupped Caleb's face. "Thank you for understanding. I may have moments when I need to step away and center myself, but know without a shadow of a doubt, that I am yours for always. I will not ever go back to being alone."

Their night together had been a memorable one, with neither of them getting much sleep.

Caleb was pulled from his revere of the past when Onida stepped from the bathroom completely naked except for the towel around her head. Frowning, she said, "I thought you had to call Dean and Sam?"

Caleb grinned. "Maybe later."

* * *

It was almost one o'clock and Dean had just rolled beneath the Pontiac when his cell buzzed again. "Damn it," he muttered.

It had taken nearly ten minutes before he'd convinced Mark to crawl out from under the Trans Am. Just as he was about to get back under, two local clients brought their cars in for emergency repairs. Then the morning was gone, and he'd met up with Juliet for a short lunch. Now he was finally able to get back under this gem of a car, and his cell rings again. It was a conspiracy!

Jerking out his cell, he practically yelled, "What?!"

"You must have just climbed under some vintage muscle car," Caleb stated.

Dean sighed. Caleb and Sam knew him far too well. "Been trying to work on a '71 Firebird."

"A Trans Am? It's still alive?"

"It's alive because of people like me," Dean stated with a harrumph. "What's up?"

"Touching base, letting you know the Banshees are taken care of."

"I thought you were sending Max on that one."

"Was planning to, but Onida's never seen a Banshee, so…"

"She wanted to see one," Dean finished. Onida was a natural at hunting. Considering her background as the Guardian of the Yakama people, she would be. She was curious about everything, and went on as many hunts as she could between helping to train James on clairvoyance, working with Lomasi and Jacy in Washington, and having fun with the first true friends she'd ever had in her life; Juliet, Carolyn and Margaret, Adam's wife. "How'd she like the hunt?"

"She thought they needed some serious hair care, but after Owl Witches, they weren't much of a challenge."

Dean grinned. "I guess not."

"We still heading out to take care of those Rugarus in Kanarraville, Utah tomorrow?"

"Planning on it," Dean said, picking up a wrench again. "We leaving at dawn?"

"Flight doesn't take off until ten."

Dean froze. "Flight?"

"It's a twenty-five hour drive," Caleb stated. "It's faster if we fly."

"Since when do we fly everywhere?" Dean groused. "What's wrong with driving?"

"It's Wednesday. Juliet's cook out is on Saturday. You want to tell her you're missing it because you needed to drive to Utah and back?"

Dean rolled out from under the car and sat up. "You planned this so you wouldn't have to drive," he accused.

Caleb grinned, but quickly straightened his features because he knew Dean would detect the smile even though they weren't face to face. "You're the one who found the hunt; you're the one who wanted to leave tomorrow. And I don't need to point out that you're the one shacking up with Juliet."

Dean made a frustrated face before grumbling, "What airline and when?"

"Boarding the Ames jet is set at nine-thirty, takeoff at ten."

Dean frowned. "You can't keep commandeering the Ames jet to shuttle us around. We can fly commercial."

Caleb grimaced. He hated traveling commercial. "Ames Industries has three jets now. They won't miss one." Fact was, they wouldn't be flying on any of the official Ames jets. He hadn't told Dean or Sam that he'd bought a Hawker 1000 jetliner so he, Onida, Joshua, Carolyn and Nicholas could all go back and forth to Washington whenever they wanted. Even Adam had flown to Washington with his two adopted children. The jet would also be available for Brotherhood business and could seat up to twelve people if both Triads were needed on another hunt. Aside from Onida, the only other person who knew about the purchase was Joshua.

Sighing, Dean said, "Yeah, okay."

"Pick me up at eight," Caleb said, and hung up.

Dean stared at his phone. "Why am I suddenly your chauffer," he muttered, shoving the phone back into his pocket. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he leaned back onto the creeper and tilted his head back so he could view the Trans Am's polished chrome bumper. "You'd never make me fly, would you?"

"You say something, boss?"

"No!" Dean barked, rolling himself back under the car. Picking up his wrench for perhaps the ninth time, he stared at the undercarriage once more. "Looks like today's all we got, kid."

* * *

Jody and Mark walked along the main street of Downtown Stillwater. They had opted to question people casually without Donna Hanscum in tow. No matter how long they'd known her, asking questions accompanied by the local sheriff tended to put people on their guard. The pair had been to some of the bars and eateries down Main Street, and because Mark had insisted, Gasthaus Bavarian Hunter.

"We don't need to hit every single bar," Jody muttered.

"You're just mad because the beer was better at a place named Hunter," Mark smirked.

"You're drunk."

"Am not," Mark protested. "Hey, we already questioned people at the churches. We needed to check the bars. That's where the majority of the violence took place."

Jody sighed. "Yeah, I know."

Mark eyed the older woman. He could tell Jody was frustrated and tired. After a long drive yesterday, they'd spent several hours with Donna going over the police reports before finally turning in far after midnight. And now they'd been questioning the Stillwater residents for hours. Interviewing people took patience, time and skill, especially if one wanted to be casual about it. They'd already trolled the riverfront for information, visited several churches, and were now going through the many bars and pubs. Maybe they needed a break. "There are two medical facilities here. Why don't I check out Lakeview Hospital, and you take the Stillwater Medical Group. Then let's get dinner at Brick and Bourbon. We can check out Whiteys Saloon and the Velveteen Speakeasy before calling it a night."

"Yeah," Jody ran a hand over her face.

"We don't need to hit every bar and dive here. We've already check out five. If we do three more tonight, we don't need to go to any more. The accounts we've heard already have been similar."

"I know. It's just … there's something missing here."

"Like?"

Jody made a frustrated sound. "I'm not sure. There are gaps in people's recollection of the events."

"Like the violence just starting with no true inciting event or action."

Nodding, Jody said, "It's like two men are drinking amicably at the bar, and one suddenly turns and punches the other. It doesn't make sense."

"You think the town was drugged somehow? Something put in the water, maybe?"

"No. If that were the case there would be a ramping up period, where people were more irritable, then arguments everywhere, then possible violence. There would also be some people who would have gotten sick from whatever they'd ingested. This was exactly like Donna said; a sudden outbreak of violence, then an equally sudden cessation."

Mark nodded slowly. "Maybe we're asking the wrong questions."

Jody looked over and frowned.

"We've been asking what happened, who started the violence, how it started. Maybe we should ask who was watching."

Jody's eyes widened. "We need to head back to the station, see how much surveillance footage Donna's collected."

"Let's go, then," Mark stated.

Shaking her head, Jody said, "After we check out the hospital and medical center. There could be as much information there as anywhere else, maybe more."

"All right, then we're having dinner before we head back to the station house. I'm hungry."

Jody smiled. "Yeah, me too."

"Then let's get to it."

* * *

A thick mist rolled into Carthage, Mississippi. It covered the small town in misty whiteness, obscuring buildings and homes. The town wasn't known for fog at any time during the year. However, if it were going to present, it would not be this time of year.

Carthage was a small town with a little over five thousand people. But the residents had learned to stay inside, especially at night. Odd happenings had become commonplace over the last three months; eerie sounds in the night, sightings of glowing eyes, freak electrical storms despite the lack of rain or any storm clouds, and two people had gone missing. No one was tempted to test the boundaries of their fortune. Those _odd happenings_ were what brought Joel Neubridge and Daniel Rios to town.

Joel's truck moved slowly up the darkened streets toward the outer edges of town. "You see anything?"

"Nada," Daniel murmured, his eyes sweeping the streets and the forest just ahead.

"There's not one person on the streets at…"

"Nine o'clock."

"That's not natural, even in a small town."

"Someone would be out, even if it's only the town drunk," Daniel agreed.

Joel applied the brakes and the truck slowed to a stop. He stared around, frowning. "This isn't the time of year for fog."

"No, es escalofriante,"

"Yeah, creepy about covers it." Joel signed. "Well, we got two black dogs in the neighborhood. We gunna take them out?"

Daniel eyed their surroundings. "It looks like the fog is thickening. We won't be able to see anything."

Joel nodded, leaning forward and staring out through the front windshield. "Seeing is definitely better than not seeing."

"Taking out two black dogs is tough," Daniel stated. "I don't like it that we can't see more than ten feet in this muck. I'd rather see their glowing eyes from a distance rather than right in my face."

After a moment, Joel turned to his partner and asked, "¿Esperamos y nos levantamos?" _(Shall we wait and get backup?)_

Daniel sighed. He didn't like going on a hunt and not getting the job done. But the fog was so thick now, they couldn't see much of anything. Black dogs were spectral, large and difficult to kill. They weren't all that common, and not many hunters had come up against them before. It had taken him and Joel two weeks of research and preparation to ready themselves for the task of taking on these devil dogs. But conditions had changed. Ghostly dogs were one thing, but taking them on when they had cover in a haze of mist? "Sí. We wait."

Joel nodded slowly. He'd just put the truck into gear when something dark zoomed past the front bumper, close enough to skin metal. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, leaning back into his seat. Startled, he turned to Daniel and asked, "You see that?"

Daniel's eyes were wide as saucers. "I think so. Dark, close to the ground. Rápido."

"Damn right it was fast," Joel commented, his eyes staring into the distance. "That weren't no black dog."

"No, that thing had an engine."

"I've never seen a vehicle that fast or low to the ground."

"I don't think we need to give chase," Daniel observed.

"We couldn't anyway, not in the truck. Think they live around here?"

"In Carthage? Nothing is fast here; the people or their cars."

Joel looked back around and smirked. "Your Spanish disappears when you're scared."

Daniel chuckled. "I stop trying to teach you Spanish when I'm _caught off guard_, not scared."

Joel gave an affirming nod. "Gracias, guardando la lecciónes para más tarde _(thank you for saving the lessons for later)_."

Daniel shook his head, smiling. "How about we find a place to stay in Jackson. It's only an hour away. We'll get a room and give Caleb a call, see if there's anyone nearby to give us a hand. For some reason," he looked out into the darkness, "I don't think this fog is going anywhere soon."

"Maybe we should look into the fog too," Joel suggested. Putting the truck in reverse, he slowly turned around and drove back down the deserted street and out of Carthage.

.

Dark, solemn eyes watched the truck disappear into the mist. There were dangers surrounding this small hamlet, dangers those two men had come to eliminate. He'd seen their kind before; warriors that protected the innocent. Their intentions were noble … as were his. It would be better for them if they did not return.

TBC

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and to those who left reviews!_


	3. Chapter 3

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 3

.

Sam sat in his home office searching the Internet. Dinner of roast chicken and potatoes were cooking in the oven. A crisp green salad was chilling in the fridge, and frozen yogurt with berries for the top stood ready for dessert. Mary was coming for dinner and to spend the night before she went back to New York. She was wrapping up her last year of college, and had been busy with an Internship writing for NYArts Magazine. She worked mainly for the online site, but was tickled when she'd been able to co-author a piece on Tarsila do Amaral, a Brazilian artist specializing in modern interpretive art for the hard copy print. While she hadn't written the article herself, she'd done all the legwork, and was ecstatic she'd been mentioned as a contributing author. Sam was excited she was able to stop by, as he hadn't seen her for two months on his last visit to New York.

At the moment, however, he was searching national news for outbreaks of violence similar to what had happened in Baltimore and Stillwater. After all, if riots and random violence occurred in those cities, maybe there had been incidents elsewhere.

Looking for outbreaks of violence might have sounded easy, but it wasn't. It required sifting through all sorts of articles and news pieces about muggings, murders, home invasions, riots, domestic violence cases, brawls and so many other horrors to find ones even more heinous. He felt like he'd been crawling through filth. Eventually he was confident he'd identified four other locations with similar outbreaks: Ashland Wisconsin, Rockland Idaho, Anaheim California, and Houston Texas. Houston, Sam thought, and shook his head. That meant Ethan Matthews was likely in the thick of it all, and he hadn't called Dean or Caleb, as far as he knew. Dean was going to be pissed. But if Houston was in as much disarray as the news said, then maybe Ethan hadn't had time to call anyone.

Sam heard the key in the lock and smiled.

"Dad!" Mary called out, stepping inside and slamming the door.

Sam rolled his eyes. His daughter never could close a door without slamming it. Though Mary was his kid from her love of books and soccer down to the last meticulously tied shoelace, the slamming doors were all Dean. Standing, he met her in the hall and enveloped her in a warm hug. "Good to see you, Mary-belle."

"It's Mary," his daughter clarified with a laugh.

Sam grinned over her shoulder. Now he understood all the joy Dean got out of calling him _Sammy_ growing up when he'd insisted his name was Sam. He also understood with crystal clarity all the affection that came with _Sammy_. "Mary," he corrected. Stepping back, he smiled down at his blonde-haired daughter.

While he looked like his father and Dean their mother, Mary had inherited a combination of her mother Lydia's looks, and Mary's, her namesake. Strong features with wide, brown eyes and his mom's blonde hair. She was beautiful.

Mary stepped back and looked at the light shining from her father's office. "Working on something?"

"Aren't I always?" Sam answered, leading the way into the kitchen. "Come on, I've got dinner almost ready. I want to hear about school, the Internship, the magazine, everything."

Mary laughed, slinging an arm around her father's waist. "How much time have you got?"

"As long as you have to give," Sam stated with a smile.

* * *

_The Next Day…_

Joshua pointed to a letter and said, "B."

Nicholas looked up and said slowly, "B, baby has two Bs."

Joshua nodded, smiling widely.

It had been almost a year since he and Carolyn had brought Nicholas back from Washington, and the boy was flourishing. Joshua had been giving him calcium injections, and he thought the child was filling out a little more. While still slender, he had grown two inches. Carolyn was kept busy making sure he had clothes that fit. His daughter Josie was in love with having a little brother, and had been spending a lot more time at home playing with Nicholas and helping with his studies. Even Max had been around more, talking and spending time with the child.

It was also beneficial to have Adam and Margaret nearby with Maisie and Lucas, two other children that had survived the Owl Witches.

Adam was Joshua's liaison with their coven, his body guard for years, and best friend. Though his son Ryker was to be the next Advisor to JT's Triad, Adam hadn't approved of the Brotherhood nor its members. But one year ago he'd gotten an up close and personal introduction to hunting that had changed him completely. Children had been kidnapped and held captive by witches for years, witches that had wreaked havoc on their young bodies. Adam had been asked to come and lend his expertise in potions and spell work to find a solution to whatever was warping the children's physiology on a cellular level. That trip had resulted in one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, but one that had yielded a great blessing for him and his wife; Maisie and Lucas.

Maisie's parents had been killed by the witches when she had been taken five years ago at three years old. They'd put up a fight to keep her, and had lost. When she was rescued four years later, she had few living relatives to take her. Though a maternal grandmother had wanted her, she readily acknowledged that as someone who needed to work full time, she hadn't the skills nor time required to care for a traumatized child. She'd signed the papers for adoption, asking only that Adam and Margaret allow her some contact with her granddaughter, that maybe they could visit now and again. Since Adam and Margaret took Maisie and Lucas back to Washington every month to spend time with the other kidnap survivors, they always made time for Maisie to be with her Grandmother.

Lucas had been the result of an underage pregnancy when his father was fifteen and his mother fourteen. Though devastated that their child had gone missing, the two had quickly returned to their young lives, using school and school activities as solace for their grief. No longer a couple, Lucas' mother was in her first year of college at the University of Washington studying graphic design when he'd been rescued. His father was already in Utah studying mechanical engineering at Brigham Young University. Both parents had decided the best thing for their son was a stable family who could care for his needs and give him a good home, something they wouldn't be able to do for some time to come. Doctor Etsitty from the Yakama Reservation Clinic facilitated the adoption, with Alison Daughtery of the Brotherhood making the paperwork painless and speedy. Only the mother had asked if Adam and Margaret could keep her updated yearly with pictures of her son.

Joshua had arranged for a tutor specializing in childhood trauma to home school Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas at his house four days a week. On Fridays, the children were taken to a local park to play so they could become acclimated to other kids and find out what playing was all about. This activity was easier for Lucas, as he'd only been in captivity for a year and a half. He remembered playing with other children, and adapted quickly. Maisie and Nicholas were another matter. They'd been taken at such a young age, and been held captive for around four years. They didn't remember playing and had a hard time understanding why they would climb on monkey bars or teeter-totters or merry-go-rounds. One playground item both had taken to, however, was the swing. If Joshua let him, Nicholas would spend hours swinging higher and higher, his blond head tilted back, allowing the wind to run invisible fingers through his hair. Joshua knew why Nicholas loved the swing set so much – he loved it because he was free. The swing gave him the illusion he was flying through the air, the sun on his face, the wind all around. It was the complete opposite of being held captive in a cave so dark you couldn't see your hands, caged and lying in the filth, mud and dirt. And as far as he was concerned, Nicholas could swing for as long as his heart desired … or until Carolyn insisted they come home for dinner.

Nicholas needed to see Dean at least a couple times a week as well. If he didn't, he'd look at Joshua with huge blue eyes and murmur, "Back?" Joshua and Dean were the constants in Nicholas' life. They'd rescued him and been the first two people he'd connected with. He needed them. Dean made it a point to have lunch at Joshua's every Tuesday, and at some other point or two during the week Joshua and Dean made sure they got together. Dean also made sure Nicholas got to see Ben's children Mac and Lisa Anne at least once a month, even if he and Joshua drove the two hours to Nashville to get it done. Mac and Nicholas got along like a house on fire, and Dean could see them becoming best friends as they grew up. He was already hinting to Ben that he might consider transferring to UK Chandler Hospital in Lexington. It would put the small family an hour's drive closer to New Haven.

Joshua pointed to another letter.

"D," Nicholas said. "Dog." Frowning, he asked slowly, "What is dog?"

"A dog is something I'm going to take you to see today," Joshua said with a smile. "Or more specifically, a puppy."

Nicholas thought for a moment, then said, "P."

"Very good," Joshua praised.

"Park," Nicholas added.

Joshua grinned. "Well done. Are you ready to see a puppy?" Nicholas nodded, though he was certain the child had no idea what a puppy was. "Then let's go, shall we?" Joshua scooped up Nicholas in his arms, smiling at the soft giggle that resulted from the action. "Let's go to the pet store."

An hour later they were walking through an humane shelter's puppy section. There were several other people looking to adopt puppies, and the crowds of milling people were making Nicholas nervous. Quickly Joshua backed out and went to the front counter. "May I speak with the manager, please?"

The girl behind the counter stared a moment, before nodding. She disappeared through a back door, and when she came back, an older man with a scruffy face followed.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

Joshua held Nicholas while he quickly explained the situation.

The man looked at the child, then nodded as a slow smile crossed his face. "See that door behind you? Go inside and wait."

Joshua nodded. "Thank you." Quickly he carried Nicholas through the door into a small room that contained one batter wooden chair. He sat down and shifted the child so he was on his knee. "There were a lot of people looking at the puppies, weren't there?"

Nicholas lifted his head from Joshua shoulder. "Puppies?" he murmured.

Joshua smiled and rubbed his hand soothingly back and forth across the child's back. "Soon."

Twenty minutes later the door opened, and four people entered carrying two heavy boxes.

The manager smiled and said, "The other customers weren't too happy about our carting off several animals, but I think this little guy is worth the effort." Opening the loosely interlocked corners of one large box, he reached in and pulled out two squirming balls of fur and set them on the floor.

Joshua watched as Nicholas tilted his head, frowning. Slowly he lowered the boy to the ground and smiled as the two puppies came over to investigate this new play-thing.

By the time the manager and his team had unloaded the two boxes, there were eight puppies yapping and snuffling and crawling around on the floor.

"I'll leave you to it," the man said, and he closed the door.

A smile was slowly crossing Nicholas' face as he touched the small balls of fluff. Gingerly he sat on the ground, and the puppies had a field day crawling onto his lap, little paws scraping at his shirt, small, wet tongues licking his face. Giggles erupted from his throat as he tried to hold all the small, squirming bodies.

Joshua laughed, and despite his head's admonishment, his heart had him lowering himself to the floor near his son. Together, they spent a wonderful twenty minutes petting and playing with the litter of puppies. Finally, Joshua couldn't take the cold, hard floor anymore, and he groaned softly as he pushed himself back up to sit in the rickety chair. Nicholas quickly abandoned the puppies to help Joshua sit. Smiling, he asked, "Which puppy do you like best?"

Nicholas frowned at the question, then looked down at the mass of writhing fur jumping at his legs and nipping at his shoes. A couple of puppies where playing together, rolling on the tiled floor.

Joshua leaned forward. "You can have one," he said, holding up one finger.

Nicholas looked down, and his lips trembled. Suddenly large tears started rolling down his face, and instantly Joshua's heart sank. He could have kicked himself for his heartlessness. Picking out a puppy was such a simple thing for any other child, but for Nicholas, it would be impossible to leave anyone behind. The puppies had been brought to the room in a dark box and set free; they were like the other children kidnapped by the witches, and he couldn't fathom rescuing only one. Quickly Joshua pulled the distraught child to his chest and desperately tried to figure a way out of his blunder. Just then the door opened, and the manager looked in. His eyes widened as he took in the sobbing child.

Joshua suddenly had an idea. "Could you bring in the others wanting to adopt a puppy? He needs to see that all the puppies will have good homes, not just one."

Understanding crossed the manager's face and he quickly shut the door. Seven minutes later it reopened to other families with children. The squealing of delighted kids had Nicholas turning around.

While it wasn't a big room, it was large enough for six other children to crowd in and start playing with the puppies.

Nicholas sniffed and leaned back into Joshua's chest as he watched. One child held up a black puppy with white spots. His mother smiled and nodded, and they left the room, puppy in tow. Another young girl picked up a brown puppy with golden face markings. She left with that one licking her face all over. Soon there were only two puppies left in the room; a floppy-eared beagle puppy and a solid black Labrador puppy. Both took the opportunity to crawl on Nicholas' shoes and attack his laces.

Joshua sighed. If no one else was around today, it looked like he was taking two puppies home instead of one.

The manager appeared in the doorway, a look of sympathy on his face. "I'm sorry, those were the only families left for dogs."

Joshua nodded. "Well, never leave a man behind," he said.

The manager chuckled softly and shook his head. "You sure you want both?"

"It wasn't what I had intended, but I don't think we're leaving one, are we Nicholas?"

Nicholas rose with the two puppies in his arms, both licking the tears from his cheeks as they scampered to get closer to his face. "Back," he whispered.

Joshua nodded, slowly taking one of the puppies in his arms. "Back," he confirmed. Maybe they could leave one at Dean's house. The man was always taking in strays. Rising, he clasped Nicholas' small hand in his and said, "We'll take these two."

The manager studied Nicholas' serious face, then nodded. Leaning down, he said, "Thank you for giving these puppies a good home. You'll take good care of them, won't you?"

Nicholas gave the man a solemn nod.

"That's all I want." Rising, he said to Joshua, "The papers are at the front desk. No charge."

Startled, Joshua began to protest, but the manager shook his head. "The thing I want most in the world is for these puppies to find loving owners." He looked down at Nicholas. "I've never been more certain of that than I am today." With a nod, he walked out of the small room to ready the paperwork and gather some food for the puppies.

Sitting back down for a moment, Joshua turned Nicholas toward him. "I'm sorry I asked you to choose only one." The boy had come a long way in understanding the words spoken to him, but sometimes the concepts were beyond his experience to comprehend. But Joshua had unintentionally hurt Nicholas today, and he felt horrible.

Nicholas slowly lifted a hand and touched Joshua's cheek. Then, tucking his arm around his adoptive father's neck, he leaned in and gave Joshua a hug. The puppy squirming in his other arm snuffled and climbed closer, wanting in on the action. Nicholas gave Joshua a sweet smile and said, "Home."

Joshua nodded. He put the puppy he was holding into Nicholas' hands, then lifted all three into his arms. "Back," he murmured into his child's ear. Kissing Nicholas' forehead, he said again, "Back."

* * *

Sam leaned over his computer, typing another line into the search engine before leaning back in his desk chair perusing the results.

After finding additional cities with massive outbreaks of violence last night, the next logical step had been to see if anything like this had happened before. If it had, maybe history could tell them how to stop it from happening again. After turning his two afternoon classes over to his teaching assistant, he'd spent the afternoon in his office searching the Internet for past violent outbreaks in the United States. It was difficult, as he needed to carefully weigh what happened during the turbulent time when angels and demons were fighting to bring about the Apocalypse. The Horsemen had unleashed several bouts of violence, which had all been heavily covered in the media. Carefully he stepped over that period and went further back.

After researching through US and Colonial history, he moved into Europe. Four hours later he was yawning and drinking his fourth cup of coffee. His stomach was protesting the lack of sustenance, and he reached into his desk for a power bar. Standing, he munched on the food and stretched. He wanted to call Alison Daughtery, head of Research for the Brotherhood, but decided to check a couple more sources before that happened. Grabbing his jacket, he'd left his office and walked across the campus to the Ancient and Medieval Studies Reading Room.

While many ancient texts were already translated and available online, some of the oldest texts with only a copy or two in existence, still needed to be read in person. Now, he was sitting at one of the large tables in the reading room, checking back through a couple books that were dated near two hundred anno domini. Sighing, he lifted another page with his gloved hand. While he loved books, after having information at his fingertips though the Internet, searching through ancient tombs wearing a pair of gloves was somewhat tedious.

Leaning over the heavy tomb, he read a bit, then checked the translation cipher at his side. It was times like this that he especially missed Bobby. The man could read and speak more languages than anyone Sam had ever known. Even to this day, he'd be working on a piece of research and find himself reaching for the phone to call and ask Bobby a question before realizing he wasn't around any longer.

Groaning softly, he pushed back in the chair and massaged his neck to forestall a burgeoning headache. There was just too much to look into. He couldn't search all the rare books in all Universities; it would be like looking through a hay stack for a needle. Bobby's library was amazing, but he wasn't sure a trip to South Dakota was worth taking during the middle of the school term, especially when all he and Dean had were Diana Ballard's hunches and Donna Hanscum's suspicions. So far he'd researched the United Stated back as far as back as possible. The indigenous peoples of America would have oral records of their history, and that would require bringing in maybe Adam or Onida. He wasn't ready to take that step. His research trail through European history had gone as far back as two hundred AD. There was just too much to cover. Time to bring in reinforcements.

Closing the book on the desk, he pulled off his gloves and walked out of the Reading Room. Passing the librarian sitting at the counter, he said, "Thank you."

"No problem, Professor Winchester. Anytime."

Sam smiled and nodded. He walked out of the huge library. Once outside, he pulled out his cell. It was time to call Alison Daughtery. She was prickly, opinionated, and ran the research division like it was her own kingdom. Without Bobby, if anyone could help and keep a confidence, it was her.

"Daughtery."

"Alison, its Sam."

"Yup, it's your name on the cell screen."

Alison sounded distracted and unusually curt.

"Are you working on something you can't break way from?"

The question got Alison's attention. "I can reassign. What's up?"

"Are you somewhere private?"

There were a couple moments of silence on the connection where Sam heard the clip-clop of Alison's no-nonsense shoes before she said, "Yes."

Sam nodded. "Okay, I'm working on a problem and I need some help. The search parameters are wide, like the entire world wide. For the moment, this needs to be kept between you and me. I don't know if there's anything here, and I don't want to start a panic."

"Dean and Caleb?"

"Dean knows." It would have been futile for Sam to ask Alison to keep anything from Dean. When the Guardian had presented the research staff with Brotherhood rings, he'd won Alison's undying loyalty and allegiance. "I'll fill Caleb in when we're finished."

"Good. Shoot."

Sam told her about the incidents of extreme violence that had happened in certain places across the country, and the unusual nature of their cessation.

"The violence just stopped? Abruptly?" Alison asked.

Sam could hear her typing, and figured she was in her office on her locked computer.

"As Jody said, like someone flipped a light switch."

"Hold on…." Alison said. There was more typing, and after a long minute, she said, "Marlene and Syrus Walthrope reported something like this near Kennebunkport, Maine four months ago."

Marlene and Syrus were one of the few married couples that hunted for the Brotherhood. Their two children had been taken by Changlings and never returned. In their search for their missing kids, the Walthropes had come across Caleb and the Brotherhood. With Caleb's help, they'd found out what had taken their children. They'd gone in with Caleb and Max and killed it.

Later, the couple sold their home, stored most of their possessions and went to Dean to hunt full time. Dean had insisted they get training and take a year to make sure this was a course they wanted to take. After working closely with Jackson, Steve, Mark and Jody at Bobby's, and training under Max's tutelage - supervised by Caleb - they had still chosen to hunt. Though reluctant, Dean agreed. After all, considering his own background, who was he to dictate how others should grieve? Dean gave them the Brotherhood credit card, cell phones loaded with Brotherhood contacts, and a satellite phone. For their protection and in case backup was needed, they were to keep Caleb and Alison in the loop on their hunts. Dean only asked that they be willing to take hunts for the Brotherhood if they were needed and available.

"Tell me," Sam stated.

"They were working on a haunting, had tracked down the ghost and were driving to the graveyard to salt and burn when suddenly their car was surrounded by people with baseball bats, axes, even guns. The people were attacking one another as much as them. They stayed in their car and kept moving, crawling more like it as they were trying not to run anyone over. Then suddenly, everything just stopped. The people stood around for a moment, staring at each before the just walked away."

"That's weird."

"Since the town of Kennebunkport has a small population, I wondered if it might have been a test case for mind control. Rather like subliminal brain washing, maybe mass hypnosis."

"Government?"

"Like they're organized enough for that," Alison scoffed. "I'd say a private corporation."

Sam frowned thoughtfully. "Mind control either subliminally or via a drug like Scopolamine or T. gondii wouldn't work on a larger scale, like the population of Houston."

"Toxoplasma gondii hasn't been proven to work on humans at all, at least, not like that," Alison stated. "It usually results in neurological disorders or schizophrenia."

"Exactly. That's why I'm looking for something else."

"Something supernatural, magical or cursed," Alison supplied.

"Exactly. We've got three cities with small populations going ballistic, then three major cities. The cops are unable to link the violence to any riots, gang wars, drug wars or political activism. Drugs or subliminal coercion might work on smaller populations, but populations as large as Houston? There are over two million people living there, and the violence has been spread out across the city."

"So, how far have you gotten?"

Sam blew out a controlled breath. "I've searched the US and European historical records back through two hundred anno domini. I haven't even touched the rest of the world."

"All right. You want no one else in on this at this time..."

"I don't know," Sam sighed. "It feels like I should be keeping this on the lowdown, but I'm not sure why."

There was silence for a moment, then Alison said, "All right, but may I suggest bringing in Elijah Matthews. As a Professor of Ancient Studies, he's got a lot of ancient history connections. If this craziness happened in Houston, he's probably all ready on it. Ethan would have called him."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I'll give him a call in the morning"

"Until then, I'll take the world up through two hundred anno domini. I've got the resources and the connections to check back further than you. You've got the world from two hundred on to modernity. Let me know how we proceed once you talk with Elijah."

Sam stared down at the dead phone. Alison never was big on goodbyes.

* * *

Ben walked down the halls of University Medical Center, frowning. He'd gone off duty a few hours ago, but instead of heading home he'd been working on a problem. As head of the Brotherhood Medical Network, he was privy to a lot of casual hunter talk. When hunters communicated with his father or uncles, it was reporting. When they talked in front of Ben or other doctors it was casual, and therefore at times more informative. Over the last couple of months he and a few other doctors in the network had heard talk about quirky occurrences in the field. It wasn't particularly serious, just informal reflections on their hunt; a person acting oddly, creatures exhibiting some unusual behavior. In fact, most of what was said Ben had merely chuckled over and forgotten until Doctor Rachel Bernard from Washington had called.

Rachel's parents had been attacked by something called a Mynoghra, a succubus type creature with tentacles in place of hair. Usually a dweller of the higher mountainous elevations, a harsh winter had drawn it downward into the lower ranges where Rachel's parents lived amongst a small community of neighbors. People began dying, and Rachel was concerned for her parents in the wake of the deaths. She had been visiting when Ashley and Nathan Bernard were nearly killed, and she saw the Mynoghra with her own eyes. When two hunters burst through the door and killed the creature, her shock had reached new heights. After she'd recovered, she knew she wanted to help.

"Hey Rachel, what's up?" Ben had asked.

There was silence for a moment before Rachel spoke. "I've heard some … odd things and wondered if you had too."

"What kind of things?"

"You know Jack Sloe?"

"Yeah, forty-ish, hunts mainly in your neck of the woods," Ben supplied.

"Well, he got slashed on the leg hunting in Vancouver, and when he came through Seattle he stopped so I could take a quick look. He said the black dog he was hunting hurt his leg, then pulled him into his cave, keeping him warm and fed until the leg healed enough so he could walk on it. Then he hiked out of there."

Ben chuckled. "And you believed that?"

"No, smartass," Rachel retorted. "I asked him what he'd been drinking. But for the last few months, I've heard other stories too. Hunters getting attacked by townspeople, creatures acting weird; Frank Wetzel said he went into one small town to take care of a ghoul, and the hotel manager comped him a room, and the sheriff insisted he eat at the local diner for free his entire stay."

"Okay, that's weird."

"The first few times I heard this stuff, I just laughed, or thought _lucky bastard_. But after a while, it all adds up, you know?"

Ben didn't immediately respond. For the last few months he'd been hearing talk as well, about quirky stuff happening in the field. He hadn't thought much of it, but maybe he should have paid more attention.

"Ben…?"

"Oh, sorry," Ben said quickly. "Yeah, I've heard a few stories as well. I guess I just didn't think much about it."

Rachel sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have called. I know I'm still new to all this … this world of weird, so maybe I'm reading more into these stories than I should."

"And maybe I'm so _used_ to all this world of weird that I'm not paying closer attention," Ben stated, frowning.

Rachel gave a laugh. "Let's meet in the middle. I'll become a little less paranoid, and you see if anyone else in the network has heard of creepy monsters give aide to the enemy."

"Deal."

Since that call, Ben had discreetly asked other members of the medical network if they'd heard odd stories. He didn't know if he should be gratified or alarmed when many had an odd tale or two to pass on. After jotting down several instances of unusual behavior, he was thinking about sending it off to his father when he received an air express package from Riley. The short note inside said that the Vetalas had acted very aggressively, which was very out of character, and could Ben examine the blood sample for foreign antibodies or antigens.

Conducting tests on unlogged blood in a hospital setting wasn't easy. Ben had to do all the work on the sly; after hours and on Sundays. He was very thorough, even to checking for abnormal adrenalin residue in the blood and for potion conduits used for spell work. Aside from a slight warping of the white blood cells – which may have been normal for a Vetala – he found nothing. But the Vetalas were just one more incident of creatures acting out of character. Gathering his notes and test results, his rose and headed for his office. Glancing at his watch, he grimaced. Maya would expect him soon, though he was sure Mac and Lisa Anne were already in bed. He'd missed saying good night to his children, and he hated that. Through the years he'd lived with his father, he'd observed the effort Dean made to be there for him and his brothers; to being there or at least calling to say goodnight. He'd missed saying goodnight for perhaps the first time. There wouldn't be another miss, he'd make sure of it.

"You off, Winchester?"

Ben looked up and smiled at Doctor Phillips, a young woman just off her first residency. "Going home in a bit. You're on till eleven, right?"

Phillips nodded. "It's been a long night. Cops must have been working overtime to quell all the riots." Shaking her head, she muttered, "Sports fanatics."

Ben chuckled. "It's definitely been a crazy night." Nodding once, he said, "See you later," and continued on to his office.

Once behind the privacy of the door, he lay the folders down. Pulling out his phone, he texted Maya and let her know he'd be home within the hour. Then he searched in his contacts for Riley's number. After a moment, the hunter picked up. "Riley," Ben said with a smile. "Got the results of your blood test."

"Anything I should worry about?" Riley asked.

"No. I checked for everything including high adrenalin count, foreign bodies in the blood stream, and spell conduits. Other than a slight warping in the white blood cells, everything looked normal."

"What about the warping in the white blood cells?"

"It's only a slight warping, and without anything to compare it to, I don't know if that's normal for Vetalas or not."

Riley sighed. "Damn. I was hoping for something weird."

"Tell me again about the hunt," Ben asked.

"You know how Vetalas work. They sedate their victims then feed off them for a few days until the victim dies. They're not very aggressive, though they will defend their food. And they usually hunt only in pairs. There were six Vetalas killing their victims outright, then eating and fighting as though they were on steroids. It was a mess."

"Yeah," Ben sighed. "I got a call from some young man named Hunter. He wanted to talk."

"He and his girlfriend survived. How did the talk go?"

"I told him about my experience with the Changlings growing up, and how dad saved me. My mom didn't really take us to therapy, but we talked a lot about what happened. I told him to talk to his girlfriend, for them not to clam up or drift apart during the next few months. Being near one another will be bad and good. Bad, in that it will remind them of their trauma, and good because they can share it. Most people try to get away from anything that will remind them of a bad time. I urged him not to let that happen, and to have her call me if she needs to talk to someone else. I gave him the number of a counselor near his home, and let Doctor Michaels know he might be calling."

"Doesn't get better than that," Riley stated.

"Anything else out of the ordinary happen?"

"Not yet, but I'm keeping my eyes open."

When they hung up, Ben looked at his notes. With a sigh, he began organizing them in an orderly and succinct manner so his father could read them quickly. After scanning them into his hard drive, he opened his email. One thing that stood out was that the violence hunters were describing didn't seem organic. There was no impetus, no inciting factor; in most cases someone just turned and wacked someone for no discernable reason. There was an arbitrariness to it that bothered him. Most acts of violence, while seemingly indiscriminate, usually had an impetuous of some sort.

After he'd finished writing the email, he attached his notes and hit send. Yet instead of rising, he merely stared at his cell until he finally picked it up. Hitting speed dial two, he waited for only two rings before he smiled. "Dad…"

* * *

Dean was stacking plates in the sink when his phone went off.

"You know, I think you time those calls so you never have to do the dishes," Juliet remarked.

"Babe, you know I'd never do that," Dean protested, a grin tugging at his mouth.

"Don't try that charm on me," Juliet warned. "If I'd do it, so would you."

Dean laughed out loud and went to get his cell from his jacket pocket. When he saw who it was, he quickly answered. "Ben, you all right? Maya? The kids?"

Juliet dropped her washcloth and hurried over.

"Dad, I'm all right," Ben rushed to assured his father and Juliet, whom he knew was standing right by his father's shoulder. "Everyone's all right. That's not why I'm calling."

Dean nodded to Juliet, who sighed and went back to the sink.

"Do you have a second?"

"Sure," Dean said, walking out into the living room. "What's up?"

"I've come across something … weird."

"Yeah? Tell me about it."

Half an hour later Dean walked back into the kitchen, frowning.

Juliet looked up from the cup of coffee she'd been nursing. "Is Ben all right?" She pushed a cup toward him.

Dean nodded and sat down. "He told about some unsettling instances of violence he's been hearing about through the hunter grapevine." After a sip from his mug, he continued, "Thing is, Sam called about the same thing this morning, and so did Diana Ballard."

Juliet's forehead creased in thought. "Ballard … you told me about her, from Baltimore, right?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Seems there might be an epidemic of violence sweeping across the country."

"Is that a thing?" Juliet asked. "I mean, there's always violence."

Dean gave a small smile. "This is different. It starts spontaneously and ends abruptly. Ben said he heard about the violence from other hunters, Sam said Jody called him from Sioux Falls, said Donna Hanscum had something like it happened in Stillwater. Then Diana calls from Baltimore." Knowing Juliet didn't want to know details about the Brotherhood, he gave her a very cursory run down of their concerns. "Why didn't I see any of this? I used to be able to watch the news, look at a newspaper and just know there was a hunt." He shook his head in disgust. "I'm getting rusty, that's what."

Juliet worked hard to force the smile from her face. So conscientious, so dedicated, so hard on himself; that was her man. "So," she said, "you're jealous that your son saw something you didn't?"

Dean's head jerked up. "What?"

"Sounds to me like your jealous Ben put together some idle talk from hunters, and you didn't."

"I'd never be jealous of Ben, or any of the kids," Dean stated, looking offended. "But I have a responsibility as the Guardian to keep my eyes open for evil. I didn't do that."

Juliet got up and walked around the table. Sitting down beside Dean, she said, "You can't see everything, everywhere, all the time. You're only one man." She rarely spoke about Dean's role as the Guardian of the Brotherhood. However, in this rare moment, she spoke candidly. "That's why you're the Guardian of the Brotherhood, not just the Guardian. There's an entire organization of people out there that work to fight bad things in the world. You're not always going to be first to the plate, Champ. Sometimes Sam calls you about a job, sometimes Caleb calls. Sometimes its Alison or Joshua. I think you're upset that Ben, who's a doctor, called." Rubbing a hand against Dean's back, she continued, "But Ben is in a rare position. As the head of the medical arm of the Brotherhood, he talks to and treats a lot of Brotherhood members from all across the country. They talk. It looks like here, there was enough idle talk that Ben got curious. That's all."

Dean nodded. Juliet made several good points. He wasn't the sole person responsible for finding hunts for the Brotherhood. But he had always watched the television, read the papers, scanned the Internet for news about what was happening. After growing up looking for hunts in the newspapers, he and Sam were both experts at sleuthing out weirdness. But over the last several months he hadn't been quite as vigilant, and he knew why; Pastor Jim. Almost a year ago he'd had his first dream with Pastor Jim since before he'd gone to Hell. During that dream, all the Guardians throughout history had been there and told him he'd done good. That had been the most healing, the most cathartic experience he'd ever had, and he'd let that go to his head. He'd relaxed, let that absolution, if you will, go to his head. And that needed to stop.

Smiling at Juliet, he said, "You're right. But I think I'll call Sam, see what he's come up with. I'll be right back."

Juliet watched Dean walk back out of the kitchen, frowning. She knew him and knew a dodge when she saw it. Despite her reasoning, he'd come to some sort of conclusion that he was at fault in all this. In truth, she'd never known anyone as dedicated, loyal, hard-working and selfless as Dean Winchester. That he always thought that somehow wasn't enough broke her heart, and made her more determined than ever to love him with every ounce of her being.

Standing, she went to their bedroom to get her own phone. Dean would be on the call with Sam for awhile, and she needed some backup of her own. There was someone who understood Dean and his psyche even better than her, who had watched out for him far longer and was her favorite confidant when Dean came to a wrong conclusion as to his perceived failings. She needed to talk to Caleb.

* * *

Arizona was a hot and dusty place, and JT thought he had dust everywhere, on everything and in places he'd rather not think about. While the East coast may have been more humid, it certainly wasn't this dusty. But he was glad he'd accepted the assignment, because Supai was beautiful.

Lifestyle Magazine had contacted him four months ago and asked him to be their photographer for an upcoming series of five articles featuring remote and interesting places across the country. At first he'd turned them down. A five article feature was a long undertaking, and he didn't want to be tied up if an important hunt came around. However, when his father found out, he'd convinced JT to question the magazine further on the time frame for the photo shoots. When he had, the magazine had been open to doing the shoots on his schedule. That led to his taking on the commission. And now he was standing in Supai, Arizona.

Supai was the only town in the world where mail was still delivered from the back of a mule. The only way to get into the small hamlet was by horseback or helicopter. Since JT needed his equipment, the magazine had flown him in. Once there, he'd checked in to the Havasupai Lodge, the sole place for visitors to stay while exploring the area. Despite the lack of amenities, the lodge was surprisingly comfortable and tranquil, and JT had relaxed the moment he checked in.

The last year after the hunt in Washington had been rough. Though the current Triad showed no signs of stepping down soon, it was obvious Caleb was training Max to step in as Knight, and getting other hunters used to the idea. The Knight had been turning more strategic hunts over to Max, or taking Max with him but letting his protégé run the hunt. His own father had sent him on hunts he would normally have taken. He'd even brought in JT on Guardian business, introducing him to aspects of being the Guardian he hadn't known about before. And of course, Sam along with Onida and Joshua were working with James to develop his clairvoyant skills. But more than that, Sam was having James liaise more often with the research arm of the Brotherhood. It was all leading to their officially taking over the Brotherhood as the next Triad, and while he was excited about the move, he was also nervous and unsure of whether he was ready for his father to step down. Maybe his father was aware of his emotions, and that was why he'd suggested JT reconsider taking this commission.

Supai had been refreshing for his soul. The lodge was amazingly comfortable, and though he had no cell service, he could communicate with Max, James, Ryker or his parents via his satellite phone if the need arose. The population of two hundred and thirty people were ninety-nine percent native American, and their guide had taken him to photograph some of the most spectacular spots in Supai. Red rock cliffs, scrub brush and low trees, capturing years of history in the sedentary layers of the cliffs, there was so much to see. But by far his favorite spot was the Havasu Falls. Water in a desert falling graceful down into a tranquil pool… He'd wanted to stay. He and his guide had eaten lunch near the pool, then laughing like a couple of kids they went swimming in nature's bathing suit. He was glad it wasn't tourist season!

After two days of hiking, walking and swimming, he was tired but relaxed. Two more days of work, and a helicopter would be coming to take him back home. It would be hard to leave this pocket of tranquility. Picking up his favorite camera, he loaded it into its leather bag and placed it in his case beside the others, ready for his last day on the job. Clean clothes hung over the back of a chair, while his duffel was already packed with most of his dirty clothes. Once he'd showered, his current soiled garb would join the others, ready for a good washing once he got back to North Carolina. Pulling off his shirt, he was just about to head for the shower when his phone rang.

Retrieving his satellite phone from his equipment bag, JT said, "Hello…"

"I'm glad you're there."

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah," James sighed, all of a sudden wondering if he should have called at all.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

The familiar questions from his big brother settled James in a way nothing else could. "I'm fine, great," he said. "When are you coming back to civilization?"

JT smiled, sitting down on the bed. He wasn't fooled by James' answer. His brother needed to talk. "The helicopter is coming to pick me up in two days."

"How is it?"

"Beautiful," JT said truthfully. "I wish you could be here. You … well, you wouldn't have loved it, but you might have liked it."

James laughed. "Yeah, nature isn't my favorite thing. Give me the smog-filled city any day."

JT chucked. "So, what's up?"

James hesitating for a moment before saying, "Max and I got back from a hunt."

"The shapeshifter, right?"

"Yeah." James swallowed. "Uh, we tracked it down to its hidey hole in the tunnels, then … it just gave up and we killed it."

JT frowned. "What?"

James blew out a growl of frustration. "The thing just gives up! Who does that? It's supposed to fight to the death! He'd killed his last victim and already had someone else waiting to switch in to, and he just turns around and says to me and Max, _fine,_ _just do it_." James' voice caught slightly. "It felt … it felt…"

"Like murder," JT stated quietly. He knew his brother, after all.

There was a moment of silence, then James' breath whooshed out. "Yeah," he admitted softly.

"It wasn't."

"I know that," James stated, his voice rising again. "It was a shapeshifter. They kill people; they rob and murder and commit crimes while wearing other people's faces. But to have him just turn around and say that, to just tell us to get on with it … it felt like we were executing somebody, not fighting for justice, you know?"

JT nodded, frowning. "Do you know why he said that? Was there no other way out of the tunnel?"

"There was a side corridor he could have ducked in to. We would have followed and the result would have been the same, but monsters don't just give up!"

"Was he on something?"

James blinked. "What?"

"Was the shapeshifter on something, was he under a spell, was he taking drugs? Did you get a blood sample?"

Frowning, James said, "Oh … no."

"So, something odd happens, a creature acts way out of character, and you don't get a blood sample?"

"We'd just killed a shapeshifter in cold blood," James defended irritably. "We didn't think _blood sample_."

JT smiled, glad to hear the indignation in his brother's voice. "Then next time you will … if this ever happens again."

James sighed on a laugh. "Yeah, I suppose." After a second, he asked, "You going to be back for the barbeque?"

"I don't know. I'm leaving Saturday morning, but don't know that it's feasible to fly into Louisville and come to the house."

"Try," James urged softly. "We can stay over for Sunday, then stop in New York before you head home to finish your spread."

"I'll try to get back to the farm, but New York is definitely on," JT said. "See you soon."

When he hung up, JT held the phone a contemplative moment before sliding it back into his equipment bag. Monsters fought; it's what they did. So he could understand James getting wigged out that the shapeshifter had merely given up. In all his time hunting, he'd never heard of such a thing. He'd forgotten to ask his brother if he'd told their father. Maybe once he was out of Supai, he would call dad himself.

Sighing, he rose and took his neglected shower, then got into bed. Shifting onto his back, he sighed and relaxed. Could he get to the farm in time for the barbeque? Arizona was three hours ahead of Louisville and New Haven. Feasibly he could get back by dinner. Rolling onto his side, he smiled. Maybe Uncle Caleb could send the Ames jet to fly him back. Something was up. He'd heard it in his brother's voice. Maybe a ride on his godfather's Hawker was just what he needed.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 4

.

Dean pulled into Caleb's driveway at precisely eight in the morning. He hadn't slept well last night. After some minor tossing, kept at a minimum to avoid disturbing Juliet, he'd finally slipped from bed near dawn. Over a cup of steaming hot coffee, he'd spent a considerable amount of time at the kitchen table reading the news, searching the Internet for headlines of sufficient enough weirdness to herald a hunt. After reading about the craziness in Houston, he'd wanted to call Ethan or Elijah right away. But since it was before six, he decided to wait until he and Caleb were in the air. Anger that Ethan was hip deep in the crap and hadn't called would help distract him during the flight. Too soon it was time to shower, dress, and head to Caleb's.

Caleb opened his front door and stepped outside, duffel in hand. He leaned in and gave Onida a kiss before jogging down the short front steps and around to the passenger's side of the Impala.

Dean waved to Onida, who stood in the doorway in sleep shorts and one of Caleb's old tee shirts. She grinned and waved back before shutting the door.

"Ready to take on some Rugarus?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah," Dean said shortly, and gunned the engine, sending the car quickly down the drive and onto the street.

Caleb glanced over at his friend. He'd spoken with Juliet last night and knew why Dean was in a mood. But his friend was always prickly when he was busy beating himself up, so instead of tackling the issue head on, he went in the backdoor. "Get up on the wrong side of the bed today?"

"No," Dean grumped. He shot Caleb a look. Slowly he forced his shoulders to relax. "Not really."

Caleb merely nodded.

Dean didn't say anything for a few minutes, just letting the road rush beneath his tires and the silence stretched out. Every once in a while he'd give Caleb a sideways glance. When the other man refused to break the standoff, he finally huffed, "Okay, I'll talk."

Caleb shrugged. "Whatever." If he acted like he didn't care, it would drive Dean crazy and he'd talk sooner.

Dean knew Caleb too, and the man would just sit there acting all superior until he bared his soul. Shaking his head, he muttered something about manipulative people.

"I didn't hear that," Caleb stated innocently, looking over at Dean.

"Bastard," Dean grumbled.

"Oh, I heard that one."

Dean finally smiled. "Okay. Guess there's been some serious outbreaks of violence across several cities."

"Yeah, Sam called me about it yesterday."

"I got a call from Diana Ballard."

"From Baltimore? We haven't heard from her since…"

"Alleghany National Forest."

"Oh yeah. She talk about the violence too?"

"Rocked Baltimore to the core. Similar to the incident in Stillwater." Dean was about to bring up Houston when Caleb beat him to the punch.

"Think that's what's been happening in Houston?"

Dean jerked the wheel, immediately skidding the car to a stop along the side of the road. "What?" he demanded.

Caleb shrugged. "I've been reading the news. Lots of crazy stuff happening in Houston the last couple of weeks."

"And you didn't say anything?" Dean nearly shouted.

Caleb held on to his temper. "There wasn't anything to tell, at least, not then. At times the news reports made it sound like high spirits, then gang wars, then there was the article about fans of the Houston Texans football team, and how crazy they are when their team loses. It wasn't until after Sam called that I gave the news reports a second look."

Dean was devastated. Sam had told Caleb about the violence, and Caleb had taken a second look at the news. He'd gotten the news from Sam _and_ Diana, and he'd been more concerned with working on a car than outbreaks of violence across the country. Turning, he glanced over his left shoulder and pulled the car back onto the road, his thoughts in turmoil.

Caleb could have kicked himself when he saw Dean's face go white. "Look, I'm the Knight of the Brotherhood. I'm supposed to keep an eye on the men in the field. That's my job. I routinely check in on all the hunters, but you know I've always stayed in touch with Ethan and Elijah especially. I thought the riots were more sports or gang related, so I didn't pay much attention because Ethan works Vice. After talking to Sam, I double checked."

Dean swallowed down his emotions; he was an expert at that. They wouldn't interfere with the mission. Nodding, he focused on business. "What happened?"

"The news got a lot wrong, maybe deliberately." Caleb would address Dean's apparent misapprehension that he was the All Seeing Oz once they were on the plane. Let the man spend a few hours as a Yakama guardian with the ability to watch over an entire forest all at the same time, and he had delusions of all-knowing-grandeur. "I gave up the belief that mainstream media told the truth years ago. They may get some stuff right, but reporting actual facts and broadcasting their opinions was _not_ the same thing. Ratings are what they're after. Regarding Houston…," he shook his head, "man, they got almost everything wrong. There were no gang riots, no sports riots, no drug cartels running a rampage on the city. It was just all out pedestrian warfare between pretty much _everyone_."

Dean frowned. "People just attacking people?" Diana had told him some stuff like this. But hearing Caleb say it made it more serious. "Riots happen."

"Yeah, they do," Caleb agreed. "But this violence was like me walking down the street eating an ice cream humming Zippity Doo Dah, and suddenly turning and punching the woman waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green."

Dean didn't speak for a moment before he commented, "You sing Zippity Doo Dah?"

Caleb rolled his eyes. "It was an example."

Dean smiled before saying, "Ben said there was talk along the medical network about odd things happening in the field."

Caleb frowned, shifting so his back was halfway against the door and he was facing Dean. "Ace give you any examples?"

"Not really. He emailed me over a list and I printed it up this morning." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "It's in my bag. We can take a look when we're on the plane."

"Yeah, okay." Caleb shifted again to face front. "I just wonder if the violence is really anything, or just humanity losing its mind."

Smiling slightly, Dean continued, "So this has happened in Baltimore, Stillwater and Houston."

"A couple other cities that we know of, including Kennebunkport."

"Where the hell is that?"

"Maine," Calen said. "Apparently when Sam called Alison to ask for some help in searching for like incidents around the world, she remembered hearing about a like incident from Syrus and Marlene Walthrope. The two were on a hunt when suddenly their car was surrounded by people hitting it with bats, their fists, and giving each other as good as they were giving the car." Caleb glanced over at Dean and deadpanned, "They thought that was weird."

"But they're okay?"

"They're fine," Caleb assured. "Right now they're working a haunting down in Florida. Syrus said they might take a couple days down time in the sun."

"Good, they deserve it. They've been working nonstop for two years now." Dean knew Syrus and Marlene needed the work so they wouldn't stop long enough to think about their children. They couldn't run from their sorrows, but they deserved to deal with it in their own time. He was glad they'd decided to rest a couple days before they hit the proverbial wall.

Dean pulled into Bowman Field Airport. Since Caleb was flying more often between Kentucky and Washington, he'd found it more convenient to work with a smaller airport rather than the larger Louisville National Airport.

Turning into the private parking area, Dean took a slot near the elevator. Climbing from the car, he went to unload his duffel and the weapons from the trunk. "Sam's going to talk to Elijah this morning."

Caleb nodded. "I sent Ethan a text this morning too. He'll get back to me when he can."

Dean merely nodded.

Together they walked through the terminal doors and Caleb headed directly for the front counter.

"Hello, Mr. Reeves," said the young man behind the desk. "Your flight is scheduled for a ten o'clock departure. The plane is already gassed up and all pre-flight checks are being completed as we speak. There's coffee and a continental breakfast in the waiting room. I'll come get you when it's time to board."

"Thank you, Carter." Caleb handed the young man a tip and led the way down a plush corridor to an even more plush waiting room.

Dean poured himself some coffee and absently picked up a poppy seed muffin.

Caleb got his own cup of java and sat down in one of the cushioned chairs near the large windows opposite his friend. He watched as Dean played with his muffin, staring out at the runway. "No one caught it."

Dean looked over and frowned. "What?"

"Random violence in four to six cities across the entire country; no one caught it. I Googled it, you know. There are almost twenty thousand incorporated cities and towns in the United States, more if you count unincorporated. You can't beat yourself up for not catching short durations of violence in six cities."

"Ben did."

"Yeah, he did," Caleb agreed. "Ben was in a position to come across dozens of hunters from various places across the country needing treatment, and his medical pipeline has almost a hundred and fifty doctors, psychiatrists and counselors. He heard enough to make him curious. If anyone should have picked up on this, it was me. I'm in touch with hunters all over the country. If they were talking, I wasn't listening." He'd been preoccupied with Onida. He needed to get his act together.

Dean watched his best friend's face and knew Caleb was feeling the way he was; like they'd dropped the ball on this one. "How about we both quit beating ourselves up and figure out if there's something here or not. Sound good?"

Caleb huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, sounds good."

Dean took a bite from his muffin. After swallowing, he asked, "Have you ever heard of anything like this sort of violence?"

"Not since War was on the rampage," Caleb said.

Dean nodded. "He'd turn that ring of his and everyone would hallucinate and start attacking each other."

"Slippery bastard too," Caleb declared. "One second he's there, the next he's gone. But the rings weren't returned to War, Pestilence or Famine, so I think we can rule out a repeat of that violence."

"Sam said that Alison asked if this was a drug trial, like a bio-weapon; make people hallucinate and attack one another."

"You'd think the government would really try that out in the open, on the American people?"

"No, I don't. But that doesn't mean a private company wouldn't."

Caleb frowned. "How can we find out about something like that? Do we know a spook?"

"Maybe," Dean said quietly.

"What? We know a spook?"

Shrugging, Dean asked, "Can you put out feelers to the hunters, have them report anything unusual, no matter how small?" The redirect was deliberate, and he knew Caleb understood. There were some contacts that were for the Guardian only.

Caleb did in fact understand, and didn't pursue the question. There had been a few other times when Dean had redirected a conversation when the information was Guardian-only. He wasn't offended, as there were many contacts and connections that were accessible only by him as the Knight of the Brotherhood. He'd learned from John a long time ago that the Guardian had his own resources. "I'll get the word out, have hunters contact either me or Max for weirdness no matter how insignificant. Has anyone checked in with the covens? See if there's some mystical woo woo going on?"

"I asked Sam about that. He said he hadn't gone that route yet, as he wasn't sure the violence was of the supernatural variety."

"But we're going to treat it as if it was…" Caleb asked.

"To tell you the truth, I guess I'm not sure yet either," Dean admitted. "I mean, random violence. Violence in the world has been escalating for decades."

"The world has always been violent," Caleb agreed.

"I took a look at the news this morning, spent a good while going through the Internet, checking out major headlines and leading stories." Dean shook his head. "Truth is, even in my younger days when I regularly checked the headlines for hunts, I don't know that I would have picked up on riots in a few cities as being a job, you know?"

"Violence is ambiguous."

Dean nodded. "There are quirks, signs, clues dad taught me and Sam to look for to identify supernatural creatures. I didn't see any of those tells when I searched, at least not with regards to chaotic violence."

"Seems the randomness of the start and the instant stop are the headliners here."

The door opened and the young man from the front desk walked in. "Mr. Reeves, your plane is ready for boarding."

Caleb and Dean rose as Caleb said, "Thank you, Carter."

The young man held open the door as the pair walked through. Halfway down the corridor Caleb veered right and down another hallway to through the glass door at the end. Outside stood his Hawker 1000. The stairsteps were down and the pilot stood at the bottom.

"Welcome aboard," the pilot said with a smile.

"Thank you, Michael," Caleb said as he climbed the steps, Dean on his heels. Inside, they both stowed their gear and took seats in the plush chairs while the Captain retracted the stairs and secured the cabin door.

Dean swallowed and buckled his seatbelt.

"I hate taking out Rugarus," Caleb commented to distract Dean from takeoff. "If they could only control their hunger, they could live out their lives."

"But they can't," Dean replied. "There's never been one that could."

Caleb huffed out a breath. "I know. But they look human until they feed." Leaning forward, he said, "Let's wait to kill this one until it's eating, okay?"

"You know that means they'll have kill someone, right?"

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. It wasn't a serious plan. But maybe we can just toss them some raw meat so they'll change and then I can kill them."

Dean chuckled. "Maybe we can manage that."

The engine ramped up and the Captain's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Welcome aboard, gentlemen. We will be taxying out to the runway in just a moment, and will take off soon after. We will be landing at the Cedar City regional Airport in three hours and twenty-nine minutes. Make sure your seatbelts are secured. Relax and enjoy the flight."

"I've already got us a car rental when we land," Dean said, keeping his eyes away from the windows.

"I booked us into the Springhill Suites by Marriott."

Dean was used to Caleb's snobbiness when it came to hotels, and hadn't even bothered trying to book one. His choices were always deemed wanting. The plane started down the runway, gathering speed, and his hands clenched on the cushioned arm rests.

"You know this plane isn't going to crash," Caleb commented, pulling out his phone and checking it for messages. "After all these years, haven't you gotten a little more used to flying?"

"Once a death trap, always a death trap," Dean muttered, closed his eyes. If he tried really hard, maybe he could pretend he was accelerating in the Impala.

Caleb shook his head. "Pathetic."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who bought himself a luxury jetliner and didn't bother to tell his best friend."

Caleb's mouth dropped open.

Dean opened one eye, then smirked. Closing his eyes again, he forced himself to keep the smile off his face. There was only so much teasing a Knight could take.

**.**

When the aircraft landed in Cedar City Regional Airport, Caleb and Dean deplaned and walked to the rental counter. Caleb stood back with their laden cart, not wanting anyone to ask any questions about the long wooden box Dean had insisted on bringing. Coming on his private jet definitely had several perks, a major one being they could bring weapons of all sorts on board without the authorities shoving them into a deep prison hole. Unfortunately, Cedar City was too small a city to have either an ultra busy International Airport or a private one. The Regional Airport was just large enough to have a good sized security force and small enough for the officers to be vigilant in their job. Caleb needed to be casually confident and nonchalant to keep from attracting the attention of any security personnel.

Dean approached with a set of keys. "They're bringing the SUV to the side door, and we can load up."

Together they walked out the door and stood on the sidewalk until a sharp black Ford Explorer 12 parked at the curb. A young man climbed out from behind the wheel and said, "Mr. Winchester?"

Dean walked forward and showed the rental agreement paperwork, and the kid handed over the keys, saying, "Have a great day."

"Don't find kids with much respect nowadays," Caleb observed, pushing the cart to the back of the vehicle.

Dean shoved his key in the rear hatch and lifted. "You do if their parents raised 'em right."

Caleb smiled and began loading the bags, crate and duffels into the back. When he finished, Dean wheeled the cart to a nearby stand.

"Want to check out the neighborhood, or go to the hotel," Dean asked, turning the key and revving the engine slightly. After a quick look over his left shoulder, he pulled away from the curb.

Caleb glanced at his watch. "It's almost four. How about we get checked into the hotel and have something to eat. We can scout the neighborhood after. I'm starving."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, me too. You bring the city map?"

"Of course. According to the street grid, there's an apartment complex nearby where we can park the car tonight." In small cities, especially tiny ones like Kanarraville Utah, parking unknown vehicles on residential streets was inadvisable. Neighbors didn't hesitate to call the police when they saw suspicious cars.

"How big is the complex?" Dean asked.

Caleb shrugged. "Don't know. But in a city like Kanarraville? I'm thinking not that big."

"Guess we'll see if there are other options."

Dean pulled into the parking area for the Springhill Suites. Stopping by the entry doors, he waited for Caleb to get out before he parked the car. They'd hunted together so long, they had established a routine long ago. Climbing from the SUV, Dean went to the back and pulled a small tarp from his luggage and placed it over the crate. Though the rear and back windows were tinted, he didn't want anyone getting curious and breaking in. After pulling out their duffels and weapons bag, he closed and locked the car.

When he stepped inside, he sighed and relaxed. Caleb always picked great places to stay, and he was pleased to see there was a restaurant on the bottom floor of the hotel so they wouldn't have to go out to eat.

Caleb walked over with their keys and said, "First floor."

"Good." Dean followed Caleb down a hallway to the end near the front of the building and opened the door.

Inside there was a small kitchen area, a dining room attached to a narrow living room with a television. On either side of the room there were doors for the two bedrooms.

"Nice," Dean said, dropping their equipment on the sofa.

"Ready to get something to eat?" Caleb asked, dropping his duffel inside the bedroom to the left.

"Definitely."

They were late for lunch and early for dinner. As such, there were only a few other people in the spacious dining room. After placing their orders, neither spoke for several minutes, each thinking about the hunt, and the possible hunt to come.

"You talk to Sam today?" Caleb asked.

Dean shook his head.

"I got an email from Ethan," Caleb stated. "He said it wasn't until the last few days that he thought something odd must be going on in Houston. Up to then, he said the violence just escalated, and he was so hip deep in, he didn't have time to think."

"Then?" Dean prompted.

"Then there was a fight at a club. He was taking down brawlers when suddenly everyone just stopped, like, mid-swing. Said he'd never seen anything like it. That's when he went to Elijah."

"Instead of you," Dean groused.

"I thought we were putting all that aside?" Caleb studied his friend, and knew Dean was still feeling like he'd dropped the ball.

Sighing, Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Anyway, he said he planned on trying to comb through the police files, see if anything stands out, or if there's any crime scene photos that showcase anything odd. I guess Elijah spoke with Sam, and they're doing their thing."

"He tell you what _their thing_ was?"

"Finding out more about what caused the violence, I guess," Caleb shrugged. "We'll find out when we get back."

Dean nodded. "You know, I've been thinking … if this is a hunt, what could cause violent outbreaks on that level? If we're ruling out biological weapons and mass hypnosis, that leaves a spell of some kind."

Just then the waitress walked up and put a plate of steak and mashed potatoes in front of Caleb, and a chicken breast with beans and cornbread in front of Dean. After thanking their waitress, they fell to eating.

Caleb eyed the chicken on Dean's plate. He knew his friend. Burgers meant all was right with the world; a chicken plate meant he was bothered and troubled about the widespread violence and dropping the ball with regards to a possible hunt.

"A spell or a curse," Caleb stated, resuming their interrupted conversation.

"Can curses affect an entire city, one as large as Houston?"

Caleb lifted his shoulders. "Don't know, but I'd think so." Taking another bite of steak, he chewed thoughtfully before swallowing and saying, "We need to get everyone under the same roof and pool our knowledge…"

"What little we have," Dean interjected.

"We need to get it on the table, or a whiteboard, so we can see what we got."

Dean put his fork down, his plate of food barely touched. "Violence," he said, leaning in. "That's what we have. How do we work with that? It's like trying to catch smoke."

Caleb blew out a slow breath, setting his own fork down. "It's vague, yeah. But every creature leaves a footprint, a trail of some kind."

Dean nodded slowly. "We just have to find it." Suddenly he straightened his shoulders and said, "Your right; we need to get together. We need to pool what we have and troubleshoot. There has to be a trail."

"Once we finish this hunt, we head back and focus on the next," Caleb said, cutting into his steak once more. "We'll figure it out."

"We always do."

* * *

Riley strode down the hall of the Tufts Arts and Sciences Building. He had the unique distinction of being a tenured Professor-in-residence at Tufts University. The Professor-in-resident position was not a tenured track placement for Universities, but Tufts understood Riley Adams' value to their college in terms of research papers he'd had published, his two noted volumes on Archeology, and the one bestselling fiction book that had stayed atop the New York times best seller list for nine months. His digs were also popular with visiting archeologists as well as students, and were meticulously catalogued and run. The Department of Classics and Archeology chair occasionally attempted to strong-arm him into accepting a formal University Professor position, but Riley just couldn't make himself accept; at least not yet. He liked being able to come and go as he pleased, take sabbaticals when needed, and he loved being in the archeological field. He often sponsored student digs to Greece, South America, and the Middle East, notably Israel.

"Afternoon, Professor," said a young man Riley recognized from one of his first-year archeological classes.

"Afternoon," Riley said with a smile. He couldn't remember the young man's name, but with three beginning classes of almost two hundred students each, he just couldn't be expected to remember them all.

When he reached his office, he went inside and closed the door. He didn't usually shut the door, but he wanted to check his tracking program for the Vetalas. He and Bradley needed to take care of them soon, or he would need to pass the hunt off to another team because he would be taking a few seniors to a dig at Cahokia mounds in Illinois for four days. He'd emailed Caleb about the odd behavior, but wanted to check in with his mother. She was a great resource for weird, having spent years behind the bar at Boonedocks, the business she'd run for years with his father. After his father had been killed, she and Ellen had run the bar until Kathleen retired. She'd hired Gaven Wilks to man the business until her grandson, Riley's son Boone, who loved the bar, was old enough to take over. It had remained neutral territory for all hunters.

"Riley, good to hear from you. You still plan on visiting before you take the students to Illinois?"

"Yes, I'll be there next Thursday. How's Boone doing?" Boone Adams, Riley's son named in honor of his father, was a sophomore at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte where he was a double major in Business and Restaurant Management.

"Great. Doing well in his classes at the University, if you ask him, anyway. He's still waiting tables at Boonedocks on weekends."

"He working with Gaven to learn the ropes of running the business?"

As a former hunter, Gaven was familiar with the hunting world and hunters themselves, and had a head for business, having graduated with a degree in financial accounting before he'd been pulled into the hunting world. His contract with Kathleen stated he would run Boonedocks until Boone was old enough to step up, then the pair would run it together until Gaven turned sixty-five. At that time he would receive a generous retirement package set up by Kathleen for all his help in keeping Boone's inheritance profitable.

"Every chance he gets," Kathleen said, chuckling. "He's even written a paper or two on the running of Boonedocks for his business class. He's determined to take over the bar once he graduates."

Riley smiled. He loved that his son adored Boonedocks, had been enamored with the bar since he was small. The kid's greatest desire was to take over bar and grill, and expand it to include an outside barbeque patio and entertainment venue. The kid had no interest whatsoever in the Brotherhood. It was Riley's daughter Madeline who had taken after her father and was like he had been in his youth; obsessed with the secrets and the mystery. She lived in New York and worked in the Brotherhood Research Division under Alison Daughtery's eagle eye. "I'll need to read one of those papers," he said. "Mom, I want to ask you about something else."

"Okay."

"When you worked the bar, did you or dad, or even Ellen ever hear any hunter talk about monsters acting unusually, out of character, something like that?"

Kathleen frowned. "What do you mean, out of character?"

Riley gave her a cursory overview of his and Bradley's hunt. "Vetalas just aren't aggressive like that. They're actually pretty mild and meek. But they're attacking us with extreme prejudice, and..."

"Are you all right?" Kathleen interrupted anxiously.

"I'm fine, we're both fine. It was just weird."

"I don't know," Kathleen answered, frowning in thought. Casting her mind back over the years, she tried to remember conversations from around the bar. "Hunters talked, yes. But I was usually too busy to pay attention."

"But I know you, Mom," Riley said with a smile.

Kathleen chuckled. "I suppose one can't help overhearing conversations when serving. Hunters talk shop. Though honestly, a good beer, a game of darts and relaxing was what most were after. Off the top of my head, I can't remember any conversations about supernatural creatures acting in an unusual manner. But I'll think on it. If anything does come to mind, I'll be sure and let you know."

"Thanks, Mom. See you next week," Riley said, and hung up. With a sigh, he turned to his computer and checked his email; nothing yet from Ben about the Vetala blood he and Bradley had sent over for analysis. Clicking another program, he pulled up an algorithm he'd written to track the Vetalas. After a couple of minutes a map solidified on the screen with only one red dot pulsing. Double clicking the dot, a news brief came up citing a couple missing near Growler Arizona. Near the California border, Riley thought. If the Vetalas were responsible for the two missing - and that was there modus operandi - then it seemed they'd been well and truly freaked by what happened in Texas to get so far away. There was nothing on the other two pairs of Vetalas, but they would show up eventually.

Eyeing the map again, Riley finally sighed and picked up the phone. There was no way he and Bradley could organize a hunt and get to the California border quick enough to save lives. If Alison knew of another hunting team in the area, he would pass off the Vetalas in Growler to them.

* * *

Elijah Matthews turned in his chair and placed the heavy book he'd been reading onto a small table beside his larger work desk. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair. Like Sam, he'd put a couple of his grad students in charge of his classes today and had been searching through historical records. But finding documentation of violence in a violent world was like looking for a four-leaf clover in a clover field. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes. He'd spoken with Sam a couple hours ago and had filled him in about his discussion with Ethan, and Sam had relayed his own conversation with Jody and Dean's with Diana. It appeared something was going on, but was it supernatural? Ethan's logical brain leaned more towards a new bio-weapon of some sort. Of course, as a lifelong member of the Brotherhood, he wasn't about to discount the supernatural. There were parasites that incited violence, there were potions and magics. He also couldn't discount the threat of a returning Apocalypse. It seemed to be their generation's lot to be caught up between the battles of heaven and hell. Yet creating random violence?

So far they'd uncovered recent violence in seven cities: Kennebunkport Maine, Baltimore Maryland, Ashland Wisconsin, Stillwater Minnesota, Rockland Idaho, Anaheim California, and Houston Texas. Caleb had sent out word for hunters to contact him if they came across anything abnormal … at least abnormal for them. Any information was good information.

Instead of continuing to look for new instances of violence that had no documentable cause, Elijah changed direction. Opening his computer's browser, he typed in _Houston+violence_. Hundreds of links filled the first page, with several others on following pages. Going back to the search line, he filtered the information by entering the dates. They were in a digital age, and even if there were no news reporters or television crews covering a fight, that didn't mean there were no cameras present. Yes, he was the one with the best Ancient History connections, but he could return to that search later. Right now Sam and Alison would make more than enough headway.

Shifting to face his computer, Elijah ignored the news sites and focused on the social media venues. It would take awhile, but if someone or something did precipitate those riots, then there was proof somewhere in the thousands of pictures and videos clips. He planned on finding it.

* * *

It was close to three in the morning and a black car, low to the ground, seemed to glide noiselessly through the darkened streets of downtown Louisville, Kentucky. Instead of ultra-bright front headlights, the headlights were halogen that had been dimmed to a cool incandescence. To others on the road, it gave the illusion the lights were floating on their own until the black matte car came into view. As the car passed through the city and the rural suburbs, the driver turned off the headlights and drove noiselessly and undetected toward New Haven. He didn't need the headlights to see in the dark. The world was so bright now, one would need to be blind not to see everything. So much noise, so much light, so much humanity everywhere all the time.

An eighteen-wheel long haul truck roared by, not noticing the sleek black Hennessey Venom F5 until it was nearly on top of it. Blaring the horn, the truck driver shouted as he drove past.

"Stupid idiot," the truck drive yelled from inside his cab. "Fool's gonna get hisself killed, driving without lights like that." Picking up his radio, he made a call to the local highway patrol.

"Highway Patrol."

"Yeah, this is trucker Jake Turnbridge. I just passed a car on US 31E heading south driving without headlights. Almost ran over the damn fool."

"Vehicle without headlights on US 31E/150 going south."

"Yup, about two miles past Hillview."

"Thank you. I'll notify dispatch."

Jake disconnected his radio. Shaking his head again, he muttered once more, "Damn fool."

.

Highway Patrol Officer Lance Baxter passed the city limits of Louisville and headed his bike down US 31E. It wasn't unheard of for someone to drive without their headlights. People got distracted, were tired following a long day, were preoccupied, talking on their cells, sometimes drunk, and with the illumination from the street lights, they simply didn't notice their headlights weren't on. However, it was rare for someone to drive outside the city without lights. And on a night like tonight, where the cloud cover obscured the moon and stars, he wondered how the driver could possibly see.

Pushing his speed, he kept alert eyeing the road, and still almost drove right over the car before he saw it. The matte black paint blended perfectly with the night, making it a phantom on the streets. Without rear lights shining red in the dark night, the car was practically invisible. He flashed his lights and gave one blow from his siren, just enough to let the driver know he wanted them to pull over.

The black car slowed and pulled to the side of the road. Officer Baxter pulled in a safe distance behind the car and climbed carefully off his bike. There was no movement from the black car, no turning on of the lights, no rolling down the window. Slowly he pulled his gun and sidled along the car, keeping out of the line of fire should the driver have a gun. When he got close to the driver's window, he rapped lightly on the glass and said, "Roll the window down." When nothing happened, he said again, "Roll the window down; now."

There was a couple of seconds delay, then finally the window rolled down.

The officer stepped away from the car slightly to get a good look at the occupant. The man inside was older, with grayish white hair, dusky-hued fair skin, dark penetrating eyes and a wide mouth. "Sir, please step from the vehicle," Officer Baxter ordered.

The door opened slowly. A leg appeared out the door followed by a tall, slender man who stood about six foot five. Nodding once to the officer, he said, "Etutu Damiq." (_Good evening in Ancient Sumerian_).

The officer lowered his gun slightly. Of course, a foreigner who didn't understand the laws. "Do you understand English?"

The man tilted his head slightly.

"English?" Baxter asked again.

Lifting an arm slowly, the man suddenly opened his palm and blew a powder into the Baxter's face. At the same time, he plucked the gun from his hand and tossed it into the roadside bushes.

Officer Baxter froze, his eyes wide, unmoving.

"Ebih lu (_apology, sir_)," the man murmured. "I speak little English," he continued. "Find ease not till need."

Baxter didn't move, _couldn't_ move. His brain was reeling. He was going to be murdered, he was sure he was going to be murdered.

"Not kill," the man stated softly. "Ebih palahu." (_sorry for fright_) Walking over to the officer's bike, he lifted the radio, studied it a moment, then pushed the transmit button, saying, "Officer assist; officer assist." He studied the bike once more, then flipped a switch to activate the bike's emergency GPS system. When he returned to Baxter's side, he murmured, "With you, I wait."

Baxter could finally blink, and he did, several times. He's never felt so impotent or so frightened in his life.

Looking at the young man, the older man said, "Μιλάς Ελληνικά?" (_Do you speak Greek?_) When Baxter didn't respond, he said, "فارسی? (_Persian_)? தமிழ்? (_Tamil_)?" Baxter merely blinked. The man nodded and tried once more; "עברית?" (_Hebrew_) When the young man didn't say anything, the older man nodded and sighed. "Difficile est anglicus." (_English is difficult_)

Baxter's eyes widened. That sounded like Latin. Growing up in a Catholic home, he'd attended Catholic school through high school and had been forced to take Latin for several years.

The older man noticed and smiled slightly. "Et Latine intelligitis?" (_You understand Latin_?)

Baxter blinked.

The man nodded. "Noli commoveri. Tu es enim ad extremos comes venire. Mox post te ut excitetur. Te dare veniam pro ipso turbarentur, sed aliqua esse. Intelligere?" (_Do not worry. You're comrades are about to arrive. You will awake soon after. I apologize for the fright, but I have somewhere to be. Understand?_)

Baxter nodded. He hadn't caught all the words, but enough to get the gist of what the man had said. Though his fear was dissipating somewhat, the echo of sirens in the distance was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. His body was beginning to tingle, and he discovered he could lift a finger or two. Movement. That was almost as good as the coming sirens.

The older man's eyes lifted to view the road over Baxter's shoulder, and he nodded. "Et erit finis." (_You will be fine_). Turning, he walked back to his car and climbed inside. A moment later the engine fired, and within a second, the car disappeared up the highway.

Officer Baxter moved his arm as the tingling increased around his body. He felt the lights of the oncoming police vehicle warm his back, and a moment later the wheels spun as the car screeched to the side of the road.

"Baxter!"

Baxter closed his eyes, trying hard not to let tears escape.

Officer Craig O'Ryan came around in front of him, touching his face and giving his shoulders a shake.

If O'Ryan was here, that meant his partner, Martin Chen was somewhere behind.

"Can you hear me? Can you move? Baxter!" O'Ryan called, as though speaking louder would make a difference. Looking over Baxter's shoulder, he called, "Chen, call an ambulance." He looked back at Baxter and seemed to pull himself together. Swallowing, he said, "Can you hear me? Blink one for yes."

Baxter blinked.

O'Ryan smiled. "Excellent. Are you in pain?"

Baxter found his throat relaxing, and he was able to murmur, "No." Then, as though a puppet master cut the strings to the marionette, every single muscle in his body relaxed and he dropped. Luckily, O'Ryan caught him before he hit the ground and eased his way down.

"Hey, hey, you all right?" O'Ryan called, urgency and worry in his voice.

Baxter could hear the wailing of the ambulance, and he couldn't stop the tear that slid from his eye. "I'm … okay … I. think."

Officer Chen hurried over and knelt beside O'Ryan. Looking down at Baxter, he said, "Hey, just hang in there. The ambulance is here and we're gonna take care of you, okay? Your partner's going to meet you at the hospital, and we called Madeline."

Baxter's chest heaved slightly with emotion. " .line."

"Yeah, she'll meet you at the hospital."

"And when you get clear," O'Ryan stated, "we'll want a full report of what happened here."

Baxter gave a short nod just as the paramedics knelt at his side. "My … service … weapon…"

"Where?" Chen asked.

Baxter looked to the side of the road, and Chen pulled his police issue torch from his belt and went to search the brush for the gun.

"You're going to be fine," O'Ryan said again.

Then the paramedics where lifting Baxter onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

.

The matte black Hennessey sped along the naked highway, headlights still off until US 31E met up with Kentucky State Route 52. Slowing its speed, the vehicle exited the state highway and continued along Route 52 until he reached New Haven, Kentucky.

The shadowed road slid beneath the tires of the sleek black car as the man behind the wheel extended his senses out into the darkness. He was close. Shops, churches, store fronts, homes and gas stations passed until the buildings grew sparse and he was gliding silently along a barren rural road. Soon he slowed as he pulled to the side of the road. Pushing open the door, the older man climbed from the car and stood at the edge of a meadowed property. Smiling, he nodded.

The place was a tranquil haven, tall grass waving lazily in the early morning breeze, wet with dew. There were animals grazing in various places; a couple of horses, some ducks near a pond, a few dogs sleeping near a large barn and on the homes' front porch. A battered silver boat sat near other sailing vessels beside the vast pond. He nodded toward the pond before turning his senses elsewhere. The entire property was very well protected; he detected wards and sigils, enchantments and signs. A fairly skilled wizard had added additional layers of security. A decent effort, a very decent effort.

Extending his sense into the home, he detected the person slumbering within. Yet there was only one presence inside, and that one not male. So, where, oh where was Merlin's Child?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 05

.

Max walked through the long terminal of Louisville International Airport, having just flown in after finishing a hunt in Michigan. Over the last year, Caleb had him leading more complicated hunts on his own. He'd always worked with other hunters in the past. Caleb made sure he knew who was in the field along with their strengths and weaknesses. But on the more complicated hunts, they'd usually gone in as a team. Now Caleb was sending him out on his own, and that was both exciting and sorrowful. He liked going on hunts with Caleb, he relied on him. While he was looking forward to being the Knight of the Brotherhood, he didn't want Caleb to retire.

A buzzing had him pulling his cell from the inside pocket of his jacket. Smiling, he answered with, "Hey, Dad."

"You on your way yet? Nicholas is very excited to see you."

Max smiled. He'd never wanted a younger brother, but now that Nicholas was around, he was enjoying him immensely. The child didn't speak much, but he hung on Max's arm, followed him around sometimes, and loved sitting next to him at dinnertime. Max loved him already and tried to get home to see him whenever possible. "I'm heading through the terminal now. I'll pick up my car and be on the way in ten minutes."

"Excellent. I'll have lunch ready. How was the hunt?"

Max hesitated a second before saying, "Fine, good."

With the instincts of a seasoned hunter _and_ a father, Joshua asked, "What happened?"

Max stepped out of the terminal and headed for the shuttle that would take him to the long term parking area. "It's just … something odd happened and I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Want to talk after lunch?"

"Yeah."

"See you soon."

Max pocketed his phone as he waited in line to get on the shuttle. Within fifteen minutes, he was on the road heading for home. Though he lived in New York full time, he always considered Louisville, Kentucky home. When he pulled up in the driveway, the front door opened and a very excited eight-year-old bounded out of the doorway, holding two puppies in his arms.

"Whoa," Max exclaimed, carefully pushing open the car door and turning in the front seat so his legs were outside while he remained seated.

Nicholas dumped the puppies on Max's lap while leaning in and giving the older man a huge hug.

Max laughed and hugged back as hard as he could without squishing the squirming puppies. "I missed you," he breathed into Nicholas' soft blond hair.

"Back," Nicholas murmured, snuggling in close.

"Back," Max confirmed. After a moment he leaned back and said, "Who are these two?"

Nicholas grinned and pointed to the wiggling beagle puppy. "Ted."

Max grinned. "Ted, huh? And this one?" fondling the silky ears of the Black Labrador.

"Max," Nicholas stated, giving the older man a mischievous grin.

"Ooh, you named a puppy after me, did you?" Max teased, tickling the child's tummy, causing the slender boy to giggle and squirm. "Why don't we take Max and Ted inside so we can have some lunch, okay?"

Nicholas nodded, scooping up Max and placing him in Max's arms before he caught Ted, who was trying to escape beneath the car.

Max followed the boy up the front steps to his father, who was watching from the front door. "Dad," Max said, leaning in and giving his father a one-armed hug. "I see you got Nicholas two puppies instead of one." He arched an eyebrow, knowing there was a story there.

"Never leave a man behind," Joshua stated, brushing a hand over Nicholas' head.

Max nodded and dropped the topic for now. "Mom around?"

"She went shopping with your grandmother." Joshua lead the way into the kitchen. The table was set with sandwiches, a bowl with chips, and some cut fruit arranged on a platter.

Max smiled. His father never used to eat in the kitchen when he and Josie were growing up. Meals had always been served in the dining room. But years of eating in the kitchen with Dean and his family had softened his father's sense of propriety. Often when he visited now, they would eat in the kitchen if his mother wasn't around. Seeing a small enclosed pen in the corner, Max lowered his namesake puppy inside, then turned and took Ted from Nicholas.

Nicholas watched, looking sad that he couldn't hold the puppy on his lap during lunch.

Joshua smiled. "Come on, Nicholas. You can play with them again after lunch." Looking to Max, he said, "We had quite the lunch yesterday, didn't we Nicholas? The puppies sat in chairs on their first day in the house because Nicholas didn't want them to feel afraid on their own."

Max chuckled as he pulled out a chair next to his little brother and sat down. "How'd that go?"

Joshua smiled as he watched Nicholas bite into a turkey sandwich quarter. "As you'd expect."

Laughing out loud, Max tickled Nicholas side as he reached for the plate of sandwiches and enjoyed the answering giggle.

Nicholas looked up and said, "Maisie."

"Are Maisie and Lucas coming over today?" Max asked, adding a handful of chips to his plate.

Nicholas nodded.

"They're coming over to meet Ted and Max," Joshua said.

"We're going to have to think of a way to distinguish me and the puppy," Max stated.

"How about little Max?" Joshua asked, looking to Nicholas. He pointed to Max and said, "Max." Then he pointed to the dark labrador puppy and said, "Little Max."

Nicholas turned and eyed the puppy, then nodded. "Baby Max."

"That will do," Joshua said before Max could object to the _baby_ part of the name.

Max rolled his eyes. "How about Maxie," he proposed.

Joshua grinned over at Nicholas, who nodded.

Gratified at the narrow escape from having a puppy named _Baby Max_, Max proceeded to eat his lunch. Small talk and hearing about Nicholas' days made up the lunch time conversation and far too soon, in Max's estimate, the front doorbell sounded. Nicholas was out of his chair like a shot. Smiling, Max said, "He's excited."

"They didn't come over this morning for school because Lucas had an appointment with Ben in Nashville yesterday. They got back late last night, and Adam let the kids sleep in this morning. I gave our tutor the day off, so I'll be conducting afternoon classes with Adam's help. Then we're taking the children to the park."

Pounding feet returned to the kitchen and Nicholas ran to the pen, grinning. Maisie leaned over and squealed in delight while Lucas cried, "Puppies!"

Adam came through the door last and smiled. "Hello Max." Sitting down at the table, he helped himself to a sandwich and said to Joshua, "We're on for history and social studies this afternoon?"

Joshua nodded. "Then we'll cover the spelling list before we introduce the puppies to the park."

Adam glanced over at the children, who were playing with the yapping balls of fluff. "Is there a reason you got two?"

Joshua grimaced slightly and shook his head. Quietly he explained what happened. "I didn't think," he finished.

"You couldn't have known," Max commented softly. "We're going to encounter situations like this, where something reminds them all where they were. We deal and move on." He looked over at his little brother. "He's fine."

"Yes, he is." Joshua got to his feet and started putting up the lunch things. Looking to Max, he asked, "Are you staying?"

Max nodded. "Thought I'd spend the night before heading back to New York."

"Then we'll talk at the park." Joshua went over and helped Nicholas put the puppies back in the pen. "Time for school.

* * *

Sam sat in his office at the University, frowning at his computer screen. Classes were long out, and he should have headed home a couple hours ago. But he was caught up in the research about the random violence. He was pushing through mainly because he needed it done, but the toll on his emotions was enormous. Mankind was violent, he knew that. There had been wars and battles throughout history. But he hadn't realized the massive scope of humankind's violence until he'd started this intensive search. It was depressing, and he found his faith in humanity taking a hit. But when his heart wavered, he would take a second to look over at the pictures of him, Dean and Caleb, the other photos of Joshua, Mary, Josie and his nephews, and the knowledge that they were among the many out there fighting for good gave him the strength to continue.

Sighing, he looked back to his computer. Finding random violence had been impossible. Truthfully, there were almost always inciting factors to most of the clashes he'd reseached: empire conquering, land grabs, leadership struggles, nation against nation, religious fervor. But aside from War inciting violence during the Apocalypse, he'd found only three instances of violence where a specific reason for the clash was undocumented. However, he could surmise this was because the incident was so far back in history, the record – if there was one – had been lost.

First, there was an oblique reference to a massacre of nomadic peoples in a place called Elam. It appeared to have been near Ancient Sumer and Babylon. He'd never heard of it before, but had no doubt Elijah would have. Apparently, there was an archeological dig that found bodies that had sustained injuries from wooden spears and rocks. The eighteen bodies were all buried together in a mass grave.

A second instance was in Nataruk, west of Kenya's Lake Turkana. The bodies discovered there served as sobering evidence that brutal behavior had been around as long as humankind. Dating of the bones indicated the skeletons were around ten thousand years old. Skulls had been smashed by blunt force trauma, bodies pin-cushioned by projectile points, and even pregnant women abused with their hands secured behind their backs before receiving fatal blows.

As humanity began to settle into larger groups and the nomadic way of life diminished, most violence was between individuals, between rival townships or kingdoms, or through conquering. But the only other instance of violence to which he couldn't assign an inciting factor happened in Anglia in 1089 BC. A small reference was made to a _Night of Terror_. Townspeople seemed to go berserk and start killing one another. When light dawned, more than twenty-five people were dead.

Finding an instance of violence that was random in a lengthy history of human violence was an impossible task. Sighing, Sam picked up his phone and called Elijah. "How successful have you been?" he asked when the Ancient Studies Professor answered.

"Zilch," Elijah said tiredly. "I mean, there are records of short instances of violence without a documented cause, but…"

"That was likely because of incomplete records, documentation wasn't made, or it was too long ago," Sam finished.

Elijah gave a weary chuckle. "Exactly. Needles in a field of hay are easier to find."

Sam huffed out a laugh. "Hang on, I'm going to loop in Alison." A moment later Alison had joined their conference call.

"No," Alison stated, answering Sam's query on her success. "I found a small reference to a dig in Cambodia, where ancient skeletons were recovered in a mass grave, typical of a wholesale slaughter, but no documentation from that period."

"That's been our findings as well," Elijah stated.

Sam sighed. "Then I'm going to call it, and say that if something is happening now, there's no historical documentation that it happened before; or evidence that we can find, anyway."

"Agreed," Alison said.

"Yes, I concur," added Elijah.

"Are we sure these outbreaks are supernatural?" Alison asked.

"Ethan is sure," Elijah stated. "The way those rioters just stopped, mid-swing. He's never seen anything like it."

"And Diana Ballard from Baltimore is sure," Sam corroborated. "The instincts of three seasoned cops including Donna Hanscum are questioning the outbreaks. I'd say that's more than enough to justify our looking into this. So here's how we go forward. Alison, I'm sure Caleb has already sent out an email notification for hunters to let him know about anything unusual happening in the field. Have them loop you in as well."

"All right."

"Jody Mills and Mark Wright are on the ground in Stillwater, looking into the violence there. Eli, can you see if Ethan can get us any official police footage from Houston PD?"

"He's already on it," Elijah interjected.

"Good. Diana Ballard can get us police info from Baltimore."

"You think she can reach out to law enforcement in Kennebunkport as well?" Elijah asked. "Maine's in her neck of the woods."

"I'll ask," Sam said, "but I don't think she'd have a problem with that."

Alison spoke up. "Sheriff Macready from Hope Springs, Idaho retired fifteen years ago…" Sam and Elijah could hear her typing. "He still lives in Hope Springs. He should be able to reach out to law enforcement in Rockland.

"And Jody, Mark and Donna can take care of Stillwater," Sam continued. "We'll get in touch with Sheriff Barrett Bishop in Wisconsin; I don't think he's retired just yet. Maybe he can get in touch with someone in Ashland."

"That leaves Anaheim," Elijah said. "Do we know anyone there?"

There was a minute of silence before Sam said, "I'll ask Dean. He's got contacts we don't know about. He may know someone." Taking a breath, he continued, "So we've got law enforcements records covered, let's focus on social media."

"I've already been looking through social media videos and photos from Houston," Elijah admitted. "I took a break from the historical search to see if I could find anything repeated in photos."

"Have you found anything yet?" Sam asked.

"A few cars, a couple of people, but that's it so far," Elijah said. "There's so much material, it's going to take a lot of time."

"Then I'll het started on Anaheim, which means I'll be checking Santa Ana as well, since its only seven miles away. Any violence could have spilled."

"Since you both have the largest metropolitan areas, I'll check the rest of the cities," Alison said. "Sam, if you concur, I'll bring some of the others here in on this search," Alison said. "We can cover more ground."

"Yes, let's treat this like a hunt and get out in front of whatever is going on," Sam stated.

"Will do," Alison stated. "You'll receive a report as soon as it starts taking shape." With that, she hung up.

"Never much on good byes, huh?" Elijah chuckled.

Sam shook his head, chuckling. "Not so much." After a moment, he asked, "How's Ethan?"

"Okay, I guess. He got ten hours of sleep and is back at the precinct. I'm going by there later today; see if I can help with the official videos of the violence. I…" Elijah broke off a moment before sighing. "Ethan was hip deep in crap and I just went about my life, oblivious. I should have known something, should have seen…"

"Stop," Sam stated emphatically but not without sympathy. "We've all been running that mantra in our heads: we should have known, should have seen, should have reacted. The truth is, as hunters, we just don't see human violence in the same way we do the supernatural. But we're on this now."

"You're right," Elijah sighed again.

"I'm heading to the farm on Friday," Sam said. "If you can, why don't you and Ethan come. I understand Ethan has his hands full, but maybe you both can take some time, for Sunday at least. We can pool our information, see if there's a pattern to the mayhem."

"I'll check in with Ethan, see how he feels about leaving the city after all the trouble. I'll let you know."

"Sounds good," Sam said.

"Guess I'll head out," Elijah said, his voice tired.

"Let me know what you decide," Sam said before hanging up. Leaning back in his office chair, he rubbed at his jaw line. They were all taking this hunt too personally. They all needed to take a step back, dump their egos and figure this thing out, whether there was something to it or not. Standing, he went and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and returned to his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tapped his computer screen and typed _media-Anaheim CA_.

* * *

Following a couple hours of lessons, Joshua, Adam, Max and the children had adjourned to the local park, along with the two newest additions to the Sawyer home: Maxie and Ted.

Joshua watched Nicholas and Maisie attempt to corral the two wiggling puppies while Adam pushed Lucas on the swing. "What happened on your hunt?"

Max chuckled when Ted flopped over Maisie's legs, making a beeline for the tanbark'd play area. "It wasn't anything huge," he said. "Me and Jimmy were hunting a shapershifter that was taking on people's appearances to rob convenience stores near little Rock, Arkansas, and…"

"Jimmy and I," Joshua corrected.

Max rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Dad?"

"There's never a time when good grammar isn't relevant," Joshua stated, hiding his smirk.

"Anyway," Max stated loudly, "Jimmy and I," he emphasized, "were hunting this shifter. We had it cornered, and he just stares at us and says, _fine, do it_. So I step forward and lop off his head."

Joshua frowned. He'd never known of a supernatural creature to just allow himself to be killed.

"I know he'd killed several people after taking over their personas, but it was unsettling to have him just stand there to be killed." Max shook his head. "Jimmy didn't even do anything, he was so shocked. I think it really shook him up."

"You going to get Dean to talk to him?"

Max shook his head. "No, I hope he'll give JT a call. If he hasn't when I get home, I'll call JT myself."

Joshua nodded his approval. "Big brothers are a good resource. JT still in Arizona?"

Max nodded. "I think he's got another couple of days before he finishes the photo shoot."

Joshua watched Nicholas scamper after Maxie as the black Lab puppy took off in pursuit of a wind-blown leaf. "What about you?"

"I'm … not sure. I'm used to the bad guys fighting back, so the kill feels won, you know? This…" Max shook his head. "This felt like murder."

Joshua looked over. "Because he looked human."

"Yeah. I know he was getting ready to take on another body. He'd killed the person whose image he was wearing, and Jimmy and I had found the girl he was going to take-on in the tunnel beneath the 7-Eleven. But his just standing there, resigned. It…" Max broke off as Maxie came running in his direction closely followed by Nicholas. Laughing, Max leaned over and captured the escapee, handing the puppy back to his brother.

Nicholas grinned and dropped down by Max. "Fun," he murmured, a wide smile on his face.

"Having puppies is fun, isn't it?" Max said with a grin.

Nicholas nodded, holding his chin high in the air as the puppy tried to give him a tongue bath.

Joshua reached around and pulled a water bowl from his pack and handed it to Nicholas. "Why don't you get Maxie a drink? You can get some water from the fountain near Adam," he pointed.

Nicholas placed the puppy in Max's lap, took the bowl and ran off.

"Do you think there was anything else to your encounter with the shapeshifter? Something I should look into?" Joshua asked.

Sighing, Max shook his head. "No, I guess not. It was just unsettling." Giving his father a smile, he continued, "I guess I just needed to get it off my chest, tell someone, you know?"

"You know I'm always here," Joshua stated.

Max smiled. "I know, and thanks."

Nicholas walked over with an overflowing, sloshing water bowl and placed it carefully near Max's legs. The puppy rushed over to investigate this new item, and almost fell in as his little tongue quickly began lapping up the cool water. Maisie hurried over with Ted so the small beagle puppy could also have a drink.

"Do you think Max could watch the puppies while I push you on the swing?" Joshua asked Nicholas.

Nicholas looked around at Lucas, who was flying high as Adam pushed. Then he turned back to the puppies. Both were having a great time with the water. Ted was now standing inside the bowl, lapping at the water while Maxie had two paws in.

"Maisie and I'll watch them very closely, won't we?" Max stated with a smile at the dark-haired little girl. Maisie giggled and nodded. Giving Nicholas a warm smile, he said, "You can trust me, little brother."

Joshua stood and held out his hand. Nicholas leaned over and gave Max a hug before scrambling to his feet and placing his small hand into Joshua's warm one, and they headed for Nicholas' favorite swing.

Smiling, Max watched as Joshua pushed Nicholas higher and higher, and he grinned when the young boy's giggles sounded across the park. Maisie looked around at the swings. Seeing the expression on her face, he said, "Go on, Maise. I'll watch the puppies." Nodding, Maisie ran over to Adam, who smiled and placed her on the swing next to Lucas, and soon all the children were laughing and grinning as they soared high into the air.

Max smiled, content. His father had taken him and Josie to the park when they were small, but being able to watch Joshua with Nicholas was a treat. One day when he had children of his own, he wanted to be just like him; wise, considerate, and loving.

* * *

_4389 BC_

Brilliant sunlight bathed the boy's upturned face, light so new and bright it was difficult to see in the glare. Camels pawed the ground, searching for a hint of water in the sea of never ending sand. Robes billowed around nomad legs in the arid, afternoon breeze. His family were readying themselves for the journey to Petra to trade for grains, materials, wines and fabrics for the planting season. This would be a quick trip, as it always was in early Spring. After the Fall harvest, they would make the trek and stay several days when they had plenty of grain, olives and cloth to sell. But still, he was only nine and even this short trip was a welcome diversion from the daily chores. It also afforded him the chance to meet with the sorcerers and magicians of Petra.

The child's parents didn't like that he met with those skilled in the magical arts. There was mystery, intrigue and suspicion when it came to the sorcerers of the Temple. Many, not just his parents, stayed as far away from those men as possible. But the boy knew he was gifted. His parents did as well, and they did their best to keep him too busy to explore, experiment and practice those skills. Every trip to Petra he learned more, even to besting the men of the Temple with his knowledge and aptitude. His parents had tried to keep him home for this trip, but he'd made them change their mind. They didn't know of his interference in their plans, and that suited him. He kept his parents ignorant about what he could do.

"Որդի, արի: Մենք հիմա հեռանում ենք:" _(Son, come. We are leaving now.)_

"Գալիս է, պապա:" _(Coming, Papa.)_ The boy stared once more into the portal that was floating in mid air, taking one last look at the lush greenness and brilliant blue skies of a place that wasn't the one in which he lived. Then he murmured, "Փակել:" (Close) and waved his hand. The round window that had hovered above the desert sand winked shut. Crawling to his feet, he dashed around the corner of the house to the camels and wagons waiting out front.

.

With a start, the man opened his eyes. Reaching out, he let his hands run across the soft sheets and he stared around the room, orienting himself in time. Sighing, he sat up and pushed the dream away. The Inn in which he currently slept was not grand by any means, yet it was many times more luxurious than what he'd been used to in the era of his dream wanderings. Hearing his father's voice again, even in the dream, made him nostalgic for the simplicity of those times. He could almost feel the heat of the sun on his face even now, and a desire to be outside rushed through his body like a wave. Though he had only been asleep for four hours, having left the home of Merlin's Chosen as the first rays of dawn escape past the horizon, still he rose and prepared to dress.

It had been disappointing, not seeing Merin's Child. But they would meet, of this he was certain. Merlin had been his nemesis years before, and a worthy opponent. Then, Merlin had won and he'd been defeated. But the elder magician was long in the grave, and even his chosen knights would be unable to stop him this time. For nearly two millennia he had worked to acquire what he needed to remake the world, and Merlin's champions would not be able to stop him.

Rising, he splashed water over his body and dressed. Gathering his belongings, he opened the door and walked down the narrow hallway toward the rear of the building. It was only when he stepped outside and felt the heat of the sun on his face that he relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he walked to his vehicle, opened the lock and placed his things inside. Once he was behind the wheel, he reflected on whether the should turn around and go back to the small hamlet where Merlin's Child dwelled. It frustrated him that the chosen had not been at his dwelling. His curiosity was boundless. He'd taken some time to walk the small town where the chosen dwelled. It was very modest; just what he would expect, and he was intrigued. In time's past, Merlin's children often lived in larger dwellings, those with prestige and grandeur. This humble home spoke volumes about the man who chose it. No, he would not stay at this time. But he would be back very soon.

* * *

Ethan gave his eyes a vigorous rub before focusing once more on the computer screen. He'd gotten a good nine or ten hours sleep before heading back into the department. Checking in with the patrol units, it appeared that all was calm on the streets. The violence of the past two-plus weeks seemed to have ceased as mysteriously as it had begun, with a startled and relieved calm reigning. To Ethan, however, a sudden calm like this didn't just happen. After speaking with Caleb, he was more convinced than ever that something supernatural was going on.

Now, as he sat in his office, he was scrolling through Houston PD official video accounts of the violence and any one-on-one encounters from officers with offenders. After speaking with Elijah this afternoon, he knew his brother was focusing on social media records. Considering the number of outbreaks over the last couple weeks, neither was a small task. He'd turned over much of the incident reports and paperwork load over to his second in command, Lieutenant Grace Hoàng, and to Detective Renault to delegate out to the others. Now he could focus on his task; searching for anything unusual in the logs. There had to be a trail somewhere, and he was determined to find it.

Pulling up the record of a call from one of the downtown bars showed a police officer trying to keep three men from attacking a woman who was walking home after work. Another showcased a brawl outside a mega-mall after a store shuttered its doors because a sale had gotten out of hand. Another was a jumble of images as three officers worked to subdue several men and women fighting over a case of beer. The records went on and on, and Ethan was finding it difficult to keep his eyes off the officers and focus on the surrounding areas.

Shoving himself to his feet, Ethan paced around his small office, stretching. A knock at the door had him sighing. "Enter."

Lieutenant Grace Hoàng opened the door and stuck her head inside.

Ethan waved a weary hand in her direction, beckoning her to enter.

Grace shut the door behind her and gave her boss a close examination. "You look like crap."

Ethan huffed out a short laugh. "Thanks." He motioned to a seat as he relocated back behind his desk. "How's the paperwork coming?"

"Slowly," Grace replied, dropping into a chair and giving her face a short scrub. "There are so many incidents to cover, and with half the squad out on the streets."

Ethan felt a stab of guilt that he wasn't helping his team.

"Get off it, Captain," Grace snorted. "We can do paperwork without you. It may take awhile, but we'll get it done. I just came in to let you know we're cutting Cam Stolts loose. The woman whose house he burgled at fourteen died of a heart attack. The coroner at the time didn't believe Cam being in the home contributed, as the woman was a neighbor who knew Cam and was rather … crotchety. Not much was going to scare her, much less _a rascally, dirty kid who cluttered up the block_. Her words, not ours or the coroner's."

Ethan felt his shoulders relax slightly. It was good to know Cam hadn't contributed to the death of that woman. "So, he's been set free?"

"Tried to tell us that the incident never happened, and he didn't know what he'd been saying." Grace chuckled. "Considering it was all on record as well as recorded in his sealed juvey file, it was a valiant attempt at lying. But yeah, he's been sent home." Pushing herself up, she said, "I'll get back to it."

"Grace," Ethan said suddenly. "When was the last time you got some rest?"

"I got seven hours last night. I'm fine for awhile more."

Making a sudden decision, Ethan said, "Can you spare some time to help me on looking through the vid records? I'm looking to see if there's anyone watching, anything suspicious. Maybe someone saw someone doctoring the water … something."

"You're trying to find who started all this," Grace stated.

"If someone spiked the water or let loose a canister of gas, maybe someone caught it on vid and didn't realize it. The human eye missing things, but the camera captures everything."

Frowning, Grace sat slowly back down. "You think this was deliberate."

Ethan leaned back in his chair. "What do you think?"

Grace thought over the question carefully, before she said, "I'm not sure. The violence was erratic and extreme, and that's not the norm. But erratic violence happens when people are involved. We've seen it; someone says something snide to someone else, they respond and suddenly a fist is thrown. People are as erratic and mercurial as a Texas thunderstorm." Pausing a moment, she seemed to ponder her next words carefully. "However, in this case, the thought has crossed my mind that there might have been a toxin of some sort introduced into the arena."

Ethan nodded.

"You want help combing through the records?"

Hesitating again, Ethan couldn't help feeling some apprehension that he'd done something so reckless as to bring this up with a norm. But there were hundreds of hours of footage to look through, and he had a feeling - honed through years of fighting the supernatural - that time was of the essence. He needed to trust someone to help, someone that could access classified department records. He could have called Alison; she had some talented hackers on her team. But hackers left footprints, no matter how small, and Houston PD files were some of the best cyber-secured in the country.

Making his decision, he gave Grace his sternest look. "This must remain between you and me. Any data we collect will be classified and handed over to the FBI. We both know cops talk, and not one word of this can go beyond you and me. We can't start a city-wide or country-wide panic. Can you handle that?"

Grace's eyes had widened slightly, but she gave him a sharp nod. "If we find anything, it stays between you, me and the FBI."

Ethan nodded. "Okay, pass off what you're doing and get your computer. You can start looking through what I've already checked, and I'll go through more. You know what we're looking for. Let's get it done."

* * *

The sleek black car drove down north on Kentucky State Route 52 then merged onto US Interstate 64 into Illinois and reflected on the prior day. A massive truck screamed by and he grimaced at the deafening sound. The world was a noisy place now, almost unbearably so. There was a constant whirl of activity that frayed his nerves. Humanity lived piled atop one another in massive buildings, buildings that soared toward the heavens. Sky scrapers, they were called. They reminded him of the long-ago Tower of Babel, and the determination of mankind to reach into heaven. From what he'd seen in this era, reaching into heaven was not a desire of this generation; they wanted to conquer. It was a sentiment with which he empathized. Maybe he had more in common with this generation than he'd originally thought.

One of the things that was different about this era was the parceled off lots upon which individuals or groups of individuals had homes. He was familiar with family dwellings, but they were usually together in a city, with wide open plains and grazing lands in between. These parceled lots were crammed together in vast spaces like squares on a chess board. In some areas there were empty lands in between the cities, but there were far fewer open spaces than at any other time in history.

Heading down US Interstate 64, he turned onto State Route 49. When that road dead ended at US Route 127, the man behind the wheel followed that road until he hit Albany, Kentucky. The city was unimpressive, and he didn't understand why people would live in such an unattractive place. It was plain. Where were the parks, the promenades, markets and theaters? This place would not feed his mind or his soul. The sign coming in declared the place boasted some three thousand residents. Hardly worth the effort to colonize. Continuing down US Route 127, he finally hit a city he thought worth his effort: Mount Vernon, Illinois. A decent size at over twenty-thousand people. A smile quirked his lips; he liked how cities advertised the number of people in residence. It definitely helped his plans to know the size of the population.

Turning his lights on the moment he entered the outskirts of the city, he smiled at the activity and buzz. Yes, this would do nicely.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note - References:_

Sheriff Macready from Hope Springs Idaho was introduced in SPN S11:E20

Barrett Bishop Jr., Sheriff "Barry" from Tomahawk Wisconsin was in SPN S12:E18


	6. Chapter 6

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 06

.

Dean dodged past the massive dining room table and ducked behind a high-backed, double armed chair at the table's head. Sweat ran in rivets down his face as he gripped the flamethrower. The rugaru had turned out to be two: a husband and wife. They were living in suburban splendor, hiding in plain sight. If anyone in Kanarraville even heard of murders the surrounding cities, no one suspected the genial couple; they were far too well known and liked in the community.

Chancing a quick glance around the chair, Dean immediately pulled back as a bullet winged past and hit the wall behind him. He peeked again, but this time the male rugaru was taking aim at Caleb's back. "Behind you!" he shouted.

"I know that," Caleb groused, already behind a large column in the foyer. He leaned out from around the pillar and shot at the female, who returned fire. A click told him the female's gun was empty, and he immediately dodged around the backside of the pillar. Running toward the rugaru, his blade was already in motion. He took off her head just as she aimed her reloaded gun. Her body dropped as her head rolled into the entryway.

A roar from the male in the dining room near him had Dean taking cover alongside a large china cabinet.

"Now…" Caleb panted, pulling lighter fluid from his pocket and dousing the still-moving body of the female, who was attempting to reach for her head. "How about the B-Team deal with his own problem." A flick of his wrist had his Bic lighter flying five feet across the floor and landing on the soaked body, which burst into flame.

"Smart ass," Dean grumbled. Whipping around the chair, he tightened his finger on the trigger. A length of fire lapped out toward the male rugaru.

"Quit playing around and shoot the bastard already," Caleb snapped.

"Bullets," Dean stated with asperity, "don't do anything."

"They would if you'd have let me bring the explosive rounds."

Dean sprayed another spout of flame at the rugaru. "Overkill, man."

"Says the one setting the house on fire around our ears," Caleb barked. "I'd like to be out of Kanarraville before morning, preferably without head-to-toe burns!" He darted behind a column as a hail of bullets whirled in his direction.

Growling, Dean suddenly ducked beneath the table and scrambled to the other side while the male was firing at Caleb. Grabbing the monster's ankles, he jerked, pulling the rugaru off his feet where he landed heavily on his back.

Seizing the opening, Caleb rushed over and used his blade to lop off the male's head.

Dean shoved a pair of chairs aside and crawled out from under the table. Once he was on his feet, he turned his flame thrower onto the body and it quickly went up in flames.

"Bout time," Caleb muttered, turning to retrieve his duffel.

"Don't whine," Dean remarked, grinning.

"I shoulda brought Sam."

"Yeah, you should of. Then I could have finished work on the Trans Am."

"This was your hunt!" Caleb exclaimed. Turning and sizing up Dean. The Guardian stood poised for action, his face sooty and wet with sweat, flame thrower balanced casually in his hands. Only his teeth shone white as he grinned over at Caleb. He looked like an extra in a Mad Max remake. "You just wanted to play with the flame thrower," he accused.

"Don't get many chances," Dean stated without one iota of quilt, turning and placing the flame thrower back into its fireproof case. "Rugarus can only be killed with fire…"

"And certain knives," Caleb countered.

"And," Dean continued loudly, "we don't often hear about rugarus anymore. They tend to keep a low profile." Standing, he continued, "I _thought_ you'd be excited."

"I was," Caleb admitted with a sigh.

Dean eyed his best friend and suddenly felt bad. He _had_ wanted to use the flame thrower again. It wasn't often they confronted a monster that could only be killed with fire, and he loved using the weapon. But he'd pulled Caleb in on the hunt, and that meant away from Onida. Caleb had never had a true significant other before, and it was still very new for him, despite him and Onida being a couple for over a year. "I'm sorry."

"No," Caleb sighed. "You don't need to be. We have a job to do, and using the flame thrower was a good idea."

"So was just chopping off the head and setting the body on fire," Dean countered.

"It was quicker," Caleb said with a smile.

Dean took the olive branch and nodded. Glancing at his watch, he said, "It's almost two in the morning. You want to set the gas leak while I take everything back to the car?"

Carrying their equipment back on his own was Dean's way of apologizing. Smiling, Caleb said, "Let's load the car first. Its three blocks away. Then I'll come back and set the gas leak."

"Deal."

Together, both men slipped out the back door and hoofed it across the dark backyard of the residential neighborhood. Though the houses were not set close together, they still kept to the shadows as they went. Soon they reached their rental, which was parked in one of the visitor spaces at a nearby apartment complex. Once their gear was stowed, both men jogged back to the house. Working quickly, Dean moved the bodies closer to the kitchen while Caleb set up what would look to the fire department like an accidental gas leak. Once he was finished, Dean went to the back kitchen window and pulled on his night vision glasses, making sure all was still quiet.

"Let's go," Caleb murmured once he'd finished his task.

Dean checked out as many of the neighboring homes as he could see before he nodded, and he and Caleb slipped out the backdoor. After securing the door lock, both men jogged across the yard and returned to their vehicle.

Once they were on the road, Caleb relaxed back in his seat.

Dean glanced over before focusing back on the road. "When's take off?"

Caleb yawned. "Six. I'll see if we can get it moved up."

"Yeah, sounds good. Want some breakfast?"

"I could eat," Caleb said, pulling out his phone and making a call to his pilot. After a minute of conversation, he disconnected. "Michael will ring us back if we can get a new flight time." He yawned again.

Dean eyed his friend again. "You want to head back to the plane; get some sleep instead of stopping for food?"

Running a hand over his face, Caleb suggested, "How about we get some food then head back, eat it there…?"

"Sounds good." Ten minutes later Dean pulled into a Denny's and shut down the engine just as Caleb's cell rang.

"'Lo," Caleb said. After a couple seconds he smiled and said, "Thanks, Michael. We'll be on board when you get there." Disconnecting, he turned to Dean and said, "We've got a five AM take off."

After ordering their breakfasts, Dean collected the to-go bags and returned to the car, where Caleb had remained. He was leaning against the passenger door with his eyes closed. Quickly Dean covered the last few miles to Cedar City Regional Airport. "I'll drop you at the Terminal and return the rental," he said. "I'll meet you on board."

Caleb climbed out with the food and unloaded their personal duffels and most of their gear from the SUV, leaving the flame thrower for Dean to bring once the plane was ready to board. Giving his friend a casual salute, he walked into the terminal. He was tired, and could admit that. Thoughts of turning the Knighthood over to Max flittered unbidden through his mind. He loved being the Knight of the Brotherhood, but it was times like this when his eight years on Dean and twelve on Sam were most felt. Shutting those thoughts down immediately, he straightened his shoulders and strode purposely through the barren terminal. Of course he was tired; it was almost three in the morning. But he wasn't out of the game yet, not by a long shot.

Stepping up to the lone airport attendant behind the terminal desk, he said, "I'm Caleb Reeves. My Hawker is on the flight deck for a five AM take off. My friend and I will be boarding early."

The young man typed on his computer a moment, before saying, "Of course, Mr. Reeves. I can have a member of the flight crew pull down the steps if you wish."

Caleb nodded and handed over the Hawker key. "Thank you."

"I'll call as soon as you can board."

Caleb walked away as the young man picked up the phone. Stopping before the terminal windows, he stared out at the barren sidewalk that would be filled with travelers in a few short hours. Most airports were rarely empty. But in a small locale like Cedar City, the place was practically a ghost town at three in the morning. Yawning again, he checked the time. He supposed calling Onida in the middle of the night was outside the bounds. Dean didn't usually call Juliet during their hunts. But then Juliet preferred to look the other way on most things supernatural. Smiling, Caleb reached out psychically and gently touched the warm, white light that was Onida. Within a minute his cell rang.

"Sorry," Caleb said, though he wasn't sure he actually was.

"Yeah, peddle that rubbish somewhere else," Onida stated.

Caleb grinned, hearing the humor in her tone. "I wanted to hear your voice."

"I'm glad. Are you on your way home?"

"Soon. Our flight takes off at five."

"Mr. Reeves?"

"Hang on," Caleb said to Onida as he turned.

The young man from the counter was standing a few feet away. He handed Caleb his key, saying, "Whenever you're ready, Sir."

"Thank you." Turning back to the windows, Caleb said, "Looks like the plane is ready. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"I'll be waiting," Onida said, infusing her essence with the soul of her words and sending it out to Caleb as she hung up.

Warm, white light curled through Caleb's mind and coursed downward through his body. Smiling, he shook his head. Nothing like a woman that could literally warm a man to the bone. Tossing the key in the air, Caleb walked with a lighter step through the gate behind the terminal desk; to his plane, and to home.

* * *

"Welcome to Crossing," said the scantily clad young hostess. Around her the dim lights, loud music and too wide smiles from the crowded dance floor made her seem as though she were welcoming newcomers to a brothel rather than a bar. Smiling, she asked cheekily, "You sure you're in the right place?"

"Oh yes," said the tall, silver-haired man over the barrage of sound and vibration, flashing lights and gyrating bodies.

Cocking her head to the side, the hostess said, "I like you're accent. Where are you from?"

"Very far away."

After considering him for a moment, the hostess stuck out her hand. "Zoe," she stated, as though daring him to contradict her.

Taking her slender hand in his own, the older man bowed low and murmured, "Piruz." Though he'd noticed a variety of female forms since he'd come to this continent, this young woman was of the type that seemed to define beauty; almost alarmingly slender with a painted face and too wide smile. She needn't have tried so hard, as she would have been remarkably beautiful au natural. Yet each era throughout time held their own definitions of beauty. He preferred the woman of yesteryear; softly rounded, sloe-eyed and only lightly painted.

"Piruz," Zoe said, frowning. "Is that Mexican?"

The older man didn't bother to correct her. Another discovery he'd made was the knowledge that most people of this age had little awareness or appreciate for the past. "Of course."

When he said nothing else, Zoe shrugged. "Let me show you to a table. Usually I let people fend for themselves, but I think you need a little protecting from this crowd."

Finding her statement amusing, the man merely inclined his head and followed her to a small round table in the corner of the large room.

As he sat, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness and gave the room an idle survey. He'd chosen this bar because of its reputation for violence and unsavory characters. There was no need to test the rudiments of his plan further, and he was close enough to his final destination that additional travels on this continent were neither needed nor desired. He'd seen enough. But Merlin's child was nearby, and he thought that was intriguing. Did the young mage know of the stronghold? Is that why he had chosen that particular dwelling in this very new land? He had questions, so many questions. But for now…

Putting a hand inside his pocket, he pulled out a small, intricately carved box. Without a conscious thought, a smile ghosted across his lips.

"Looks interesting."

Glancing up, the silver-haired man looked into the eyes of a light-haired woman in a low cut red dress. Wide, intense blue eyes and a painted mouth accompanied her naturally blond tresses. That her coloring was hereditary was confirmed by the lack of chemical smell that often accompanied those who altered their hair color. He found this color combination interesting. Having grown up in the Middle East, most of the population had dark or black hair with dusky skin and gray or brown eyes. Blue was still diverting. But he had other places to see and to be, so instead of indulging himself, he murmured, "Move on."

The words echoed slightly even in the din and noise of the club. The girl's eyes lost their focus as she turned and walked away.

Focusing once more on the box in his hand, he brushed his hand against and murmured a word or two. Looking up, he watched for any reactions. People nearest him shoved others, and the noise level rose as arguments broke out.

At the long, dark wood bar, a young man with brunette hair carefully set his beer bottle down. With a calm nonchalance, he turned and slammed his fist into the face of the man at his side.

Stumbling back with the force of the blow, the second man managed to retain his footing, though he nearly sent the woman on his right to the grimy floor. One hand going to his bleeding mouth, the injured man quickly snatched the arm of the lady at his side to steady her, saying hurriedly, "I'm so sorry."

Startled, eyes wide, the woman didn't look at him, but instead stared over his shoulder at the man who'd thrown the punch.

"Are you all right?" the man with the bloody lip asked.

"Yes, thank you," the woman murmured.

"Good." He raised a finger to the bartender. "Please provide the lady with a drink, on me."

"Thank you," the woman said, looking steadier by the minute.

Turning back to his assailant, the second man practically yelled, "What the hell?!" Quickly he picked up a napkin and held it to his mouth.

"David, I'm so sorry," the brunette-haired man stuttered, his eyes wide and remorseful. "I don't know why I did that."

David Lassiter's gaze moved past his friend to another fight that had broken out near the pool tables. Suddenly he spun around to view the small table in the corner where a silver-haired man had sat. The table was empty. He'd felt power when the man entered the club. As the head of one of the four major monster families in Chicago, he survived by knowing a powerful force when he came across one. Glancing toward the door, he said, "Brian, come on," and he moved quickly toward the club entrance as the fighting around the bar and the pool area increased.

Stopping just inside the entryway, David focused on the dark green paint and deepened his skin tone so he could blend in as he searched the front of the club. The man couldn't have gone far, he hadn't been that far behind. Suddenly the silver-haired man emerged from around the far left corner of the club. A small, non-humorous smile donned the older man's face as he walked to a sleek, black car David recognized as a Hennessey Venom. The engine purred to life and within seconds, car and driver had disappeared down the road. Shifting again, the young man he'd been inside the club transformed into a handsome forty-something man with distinguished lines branching out from his warm, dark eyes. There was no longer a cut marring his mouth.

"David…?"

"Hang on," David murmured as he stepped slowly away from the doorway. Frowning, he stared into the darkness, though the car was long gone.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right?"

David finally turned toward his companion, who was no longer the dark-haired youth he'd been inside the bar, but a man closer to his own age. "There's no need to be sorry, Brian. It wasn't your fault."

Brian sagged in relief. "I'm not sure what happened. One moment we're talking about the ancient languages conference, and then the next I'm hitting you." He ran a hand over his hair, making it stand on end.

"It was the man."

Brian frowned. "Man? What man?"

"The tall one, with silver hair. He's a … sorcerer of some kind." David walked slowly toward the corner of the building where the man had emerged. Scanning the area, he sharpened his vision until he saw disturbed earth near the corner under a darkened window.

"A sorcerer? How do you know? How could you tell?"

David gave the other man an amused smile. "Even after all these years, you can't tell when you see a sorcerer? Pathetic."

Rolling his eyes and huffing indignantly, Brian declared, "It's not all that easy, you know. They don't have _Sorcerer_ stamped on their foreheads."

"This one pretty much did," David mused. Squatting, he dug around a bit until he saw a small, intricately carved wooden box. "Curious." Pulling it out, he studied it as he rose.

"What is it?" Brian asked, leaning in close.

"I'm not sure," David said slowly. "But it feels strange. It shouldn't be here." Pensively he slipped the box into his pocket. "Why don't you check inside, see if the fighting has subsided. Then we can head back to the hotel."

"Already? We didn't even finish our drinks."

"I've lost my thirst, for the drinks or the fun," David murmured.

Brian looked downcast. "Man, we don't pass by here very often," he stated with a sigh. "Shame to duck out on the fun." Crossings was known as a club where nightly fights were expected, and to some extent, encouraged. Shapeshifters often used the mayhem to blow off a little steam. Sighing again, Brian shifted his appearance back into the young, innocent looking man with dark hair and a handsome face. Quickly he ducked back inside the club.

David pulled the box back out and studied the carvings on the weathered but beautifully maintained surface. While he wasn't a linguist by any means, he'd been to enough conferences with Brian through the years to recognize that the writing on top was ancient. If he were to hazard a guess, he'd say the box itself was as old as the writing. He felt knowing how old was going to be important. Slipping the box back into his pocket, his gaze shifted to the long empty road again, as though by wishing, his curiosity about the man's identity could be satiated. He'd been a mysterious accumulation of contradictions; silver hair indicating an older man, but the smooth face with sharp eyes heralded someone younger. The clothing was new, classical; an odd mix of modern with some dated motifs thrown in, like the pocket scarf in the jacket pocket, the tassels on the loafers. But it was the aura of power that was the tell; the essence was centuries old, maybe millennia. One thing he knew without a doubt, knew with instincts honed through years of experience with non-humans – the man was trouble.

"The fights are winding down," Brian said, coming out of the front door.

"Is anyone heading for the door?"

Brian shook his head. "Here? Everyone is used to rabblerousing. They're all bellying up to the bar for another round."

David chuckled. "Then let's get to the hotel. I want to see what you think of the markings on the lid of this box."

"Are you going to open it?"

"I don't know," David said slowly. "We'll see what the inscription says."

They fell into step as they headed toward their car. "At least you have me to translate the inscription," Brian commented. "Aren't you glad you came with me to the conference on ancient languages?"

"To tell you the truth, Bri, I'm not sure."

* * *

Dean drove up to the farmhouse at half past ten in the morning to find Sam waiting on the porch. It had been a three-and-a-half-hour flight from Cedar City Regional Airport back to Louisville. He and Caleb had boarded the luxury jet early, eaten their Denny's specials and gone to sleep. Though he'd pretty much slept the entire way, he still felt the lack of zzzzs. After dropping Caleb off at home, he'd driven the half hour back to New Haven with the intention of getting another three or four hours shut eye before heading into the shop. Seeing Sam put a stake in those plans. Climbing out of the Impala, Dean pulled his duffel from the trunk before heading up to the porch.

"Where's the flame thrower?" Sam asked with a grin.

Dean huffed out a laugh. "Knew I took it, huh?"

"Of course." Sam pushed against the porch floor boards, restarting the rocking of the porch swing. "Why else would you hightail it out to fight some rugarus when we had four hunters in the area who could have taken care of them two days ago."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Still in the trunk. I'll take it to the storage unit later."

Years before when he and Juliet were expecting JT, Dean had wanted a safe place to secure many of the tools used for hunting. Of course, he wouldn't be Dean Winchester if his home was completely devoid of weapons. Several guns, sawed-offs, salt and canisters of holy water were kept in the Tomb. And though he and Juliet had purchased a new bed, the nightstands Ms. Emma had brought to the farm decades before still remained. They'd been refurbished by Pastor Jim after her death to neatly hold weapons, rock salt and holy water. But there were additional weapons, blades, machetes and tools used to fight evil that needed to be stored somewhere curious little hands wouldn't touch. Since the barn had adequate space for Sam's horses, as well as any animals Juliet chose to board, he'd demolished two large stalls toward the rear right and built in an iron vault replete with sigils and protections, embedded salt lines and protection traps for the larger gear, the shotgun shell reloading press and a work station for his experiments, though he hadn't had time to do much of that in the last several years. That's where he kept the flame thrower, bags of rock salt and any other large equipment.

Stepping onto the porch, he dropped his duffel and dropped onto the swing beside his brother, causing it to wobble slightly. "You all right?"

Sam smiled. No matter how old they were, Dean's first words to him were always the same. "Yeah. Spent the last couple of days looking into the occurrences of violence. Since it was Friday and I needed to clear my head, I took a personal day and came here. I'm staying downstairs."

"You just want to use my awesome shower," Dean stated with a smirk.

Sam laughed. "It is second to none. Have you called Juliet yet?"

"Yeah, when we landed. She'll be at the clinic until later this afternoon."

"Then we can go over what we have and haven't found so far."

Kissing any thoughts of rest away, Dean rose and opened the front door, following Sam inside. Dropping his duffel near the staircase, he walked into the kitchen and started fixing some food. "No historical record of outbreaks like this?"

"Sure," Sam said, picking up the coffee maker and washing out the pot to make a fresh batch. "Problem is, there are too many. Humans are a violent bunch."

"I was afraid of that."

"So me, Elijah and Alison started looking into social media, seeing if we could find anything in the footage that could lead us to whatever is happening." Setting the coffee to percolating, he pulled a bag of chips from the cupboard and dumped them in a bowl before sitting at the kitchen table. "People just can't help recording everything."

Dean pulled slices of browned bread from a small toaster oven and started assembling turkey sandwiches. "Any luck?"

"Not yet. Alison is doing most of the cities. Elijah is working on Houston, and I thought you'd like to help me with California."

Dean stopped his lunch assembly and looked around. "California? There must be millions of social media uploads."

Sam grinned. "There are," he laughed. "But I've already started, so you won't have to do too much."

"Great," Dean muttered, putting the sandwiches onto two plates and bringing them to the table. "So, what else?"

"Ethan is gathering information from the police footage of the violence in Houston while Diana Ballard is collecting official footage from Baltimore and from a contact in Kennebunkport, Maine. For Idaho, do you remember Sheriff Macready?"

After taking a bite of his sandwich, Dean chewed for moment before he mumbled, "From Hope Springs?"

"Yeah. He's retired, but he still lives there. He's going to reach out to law enforcement in Rockland. Jody, Mark and Donna are checking through any vid footage in Stillwater, and Alison contacted Sheriff Barrett Bishop from Wisconsin. He's reaching out to some contacts in Ashland." Sam took a large bite of his sandwich and hummed his enjoyment.

"So," Dean said as he grabbed a handful of chips and put them on his plate. "That leaves, what?"

"Anaheim," Sam stated. Popping a chip in his mouth, he crunched a moment before saying, "You know anyone who can check out police footage there?"

Dean eyed his brother then nodded. "Yeah, I think I know a couple people who can help."

Sam didn't question him further. He knew there were some things that were only for the Guardian. "Then we'll look through the millions of social media entries for Anaheim and get our findings to Alison and her team."

"She put more people on this?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "There are way too many social media entries for us to research without help. Add in the official police records…"

"And there's a crap ton of footage," Dean said with a sigh.

"Yeah."

Dean finished his sandwich and sat eating chips as he thought.

Picking up their plates, Sam put the dishes in the sink and grabbed the chip bag. At the table he picked up the bowl of chips and poured them back into the bag.

"Hey, I was eating those!" Dean groused.

"You were just putting off the work," Sam retorted. Clipping the bag shut, he shoved it back into the cupboard and refilled Dean's coffee mug. "Come on, let's get it done. Tomorrow we've got the barbeque, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Dean muttered, shoving himself to his feet. Yawning, he picked up his mug and took a deep drink.

Sam frowned. "You get any sleep last night?"

"Some," Dean said, giving himself another refill. "Slept about four hours on the plane before we landed." Seeing the look on Sam's face, he smiled. "I'm good for a couple hours before I'll need a few more."

"Then we shouldn't waste any time," Sam stated, turning Dean by the shoulders and shoving him in the direction of the Tomb. "Let's get on it."

"Pushy," Dean muttered.

"I'm your younger brother," Sam stated. "Pushy is my middle name."

"You wish," Dean stated with a smirk.

"Shuddup."

* * *

David Lassiter groaned as he turned onto his side. Opening his eyes, he looked over and saw his friend Brian Mayfare sitting at the large table near the suite's window, which overlooked the pool below. His computer was open and he was bent over a sheath of papers, frowning. "Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked.

His concentration shattered, Brian looked over at David with a frown on his face before his expression cleared and he smiled. "Kinda. I slept for a couple of hours before the intrigue of this box forced me up."

"Forced you, huh?" David stated, sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands. "You make coffee?"

"Over there," Brian said, waving a hand vaguely behind him.

David poured himself a cup before walking over to the table and refilling his friend's mug. "So, what have you found?"

Brian finally leaned back in his chair and tossed his pencil atop the stack of papers. "Well, one of the languages is almost Sumerian."

"Almost?" David took a sip of coffee. "And one of…"

"I'll start at the beginning," Brian said with a smile. "There are several languages carved into the top of the box. One of those has several features in common with Sumerian. At least, Sumerian is as close as I can find to the main text. It's the oldest written language in the world. This," he picked up his pencil and tapped it excitedly on the pages in front of him, "might be a written precursor. It could replace Sumerian as the most ancient language in the world."

"Okay, _yay_ for history and all that," David remarked, "but the guy that buried this at Crossing was not a nice man. Does the lid tell us anything useful?"

"Not a nice... How do you know that?" Brian asked, perplexed. "You saw him for a second, and could sense he was powerful. Why does that make him or this box bad?"

David gave his friend a familiar look of tolerant exasperation. "Brian, a powerful Sorcerer," he stressed, "buries a box with carvings older than any known language ever, a box that's probably worth thousands of dollars, outside a seedy club known for violence and mayhem, and you think he wasn't up to something?"

Brian had the grace to look a bit chastened. "Okay, when you put it that way."

David laughed. Instead of pushing the question of a translation, he asked, "So, can I help?"

"Maybe." Leaning forward, Brian sighed. "While these symbols are closest to Sumerian, they're not exact. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find anything closer in the ancient languages database, and I can't reach out to any of my other contacts because I didn't think we wanted this to get out."

"No, I don't want this getting out."

Brian nodded. "There are enough similarities to Sumerian that I've been able to decipher some of the script one letter at a time." Shuffling the pages slightly, he picked up a very thin sheet of parchment and handed it across the table. "This is a rubbing of the top of the box, and this," he handed over another page with symbols, "is some of the symbols I've identified as letters. See if you can write them all in order as they are on the rubbing."

David tilted the frail paper up to the light. "There's a lot here," he commented, squinting slightly. "More than I thought there was at first glance."

"Yeah, there is. It's a pretty intricate carving. There are also a lot of little glyphs and symbols I don't recognize."

David stared at the rubbing. After a moment, he said, "There might be someone who can help with the glyphs you can't decipher. But that's for later, after we've tried our best to work it out."

* * *

Sam glanced up from his computer search when Dean's snoring finally penetrated his research haze. Looking across the table, he laughed at seeing his brother's face planted on the Tomb's large table, his mouth open. "Dean," he called, and when his brother didn't respond, he repeated in a louder voice, "Dean!"

Dean jerked into a sitting position, his eyes spiraling around the room before they settled on an amused Sam. "What?! I'm working here."

Laughing outright, Sam said, "Go and get some sleep. How far have you gotten on Facebook?"

"Too far," Dean mumbled, running a hand over his face. "People share way too much personal information. No one, _no one_ wants to know that much about someone else."

"Apparently two-point-one billion people disagree."

Dean goggled. "Two-point-one _billion_ people are that chatty? Seriously?"

"Yup."

"People so need to get a life," Dean grumbled, pushing himself up. "Give me a couple hours and I'll be back."

"Sure."

Dean turned, affronted. "I will."

"I believe you," Sam stated calmly.

"Bitch," Dean muttered as he walked out.

"Jerk!" Sam called after him, smiling. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his search. Dean was right; people shared way too much about themselves on the Internet. They just didn't realize how dangerous the world really was, not just from the monsters, but from pedophiles, child traffickers, identity thieves and so much more.

Shoving those unpleasant thoughts aside, he abruptly rose and headed for the kitchen. He needed more coffee and something to munch on if he were going to finish trolling through Instagram. Twitter would be so much worse.

Taking a seat at the well-worn kitchen table, Sam waited for the coffee to brew. Anaheim was the second largest city in Orange county, the tenth most populous in the state. The Los Angeles-Long Beach-Anaheim Metro area was home to almost fifteen million people. He just couldn't search that whole area alone. Making a decision, he slipped his cell from his pocket.

"Sam," Joshua said with a smile. "How are your classes going?"

"The classes are going well, but I'm not at the University right now. I'm in the Tomb."

"Really…"

Sam knew Joshua was waiting for him to elaborate. "I need some help; we need some help."

"Something's happening?"

"I think so, but I'm … not sure," Sam confessed.

Joshua frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Can you come over?"

"I'll be there in an hour. I need to call Carolyn and take Nicholas over to Adam's."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. "Thank you. I'll see you when you get here."

"Should I bring Ryker?"

"He's back in Louisville?"

"Returned from a hunt yesterday."

Sam hesitated only a moment before saying, "Yes, bring him too."

"See you soon," Joshua said, and disconnected.

Closing his phone, Sam got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. Bringing in Joshua and Ryker made this officially a hunt. But he supposed it had been one for the last couple days anyway, since Alison had assembled her team. Ambiguous as nearly everything was about the situation, it was up to them to find out what was going on.

.

An hour almost to the dot, Sam heard the front door opening. During the daylight hours, no one really knocked on Dean's front door anymore. The Guardian's home was always open, and they all spent so much time here anyway. Rising, he met Joshua and Ryker in the front hall.

"Sam…" Joshua began.

"Shhh," Sam whispered, motioning for the two to follow him past the living room and down the hall to the Tomb. Once they were inside, he said, "Dean got back from a hunt this morning. He worked in here for a couple hours and is now asleep."

"The Rugarus, right?" Ryker stated. "Did he take the flame thrower?"

Sam chuckled. Everyone knew about Dean's love for the flame thrower. "Yeah, he took the flame thrower, though I don't know the details."

Joshua took a seat at the table and looked at Dean's research. "He was searching through Facebook? Dean?"

"Let me tell you everything," Sam said.

Almost an hour later, Joshua looked irritated. "Why didn't you tell me about this before now?"

"We didn't know what _this_ was," Sam stated. "The first I heard of anything was a phone call from Donna Hanscum telling me about some riots in Stillwater. She said she'd never seen anything like it in all her years on the force. She called Jody Mills, and Jody and Mark went to Stillwater to check things out. Then Dean hears from Diana Ballard about violence in Baltimore. We decided to check it out, or rather Dean decided I should check it out," he said with a smile. "After that, we heard about the all out violence in Houston, and it sort of spiraled from there."

"And yet you didn't bring me in," Joshua remarked stiffly.

Sam controlled his guilt and frustration. "We didn't know what it was or if it was anything; still don't." Sighing, he continued, "But you're right, I should have called."

Ryker broke in before Joshua could respond to Sam's admission and asked, "What, exactly, are you researching? I mean, random violence isn't a lot to go on. Society is violent, humanity is violent. What was it about this violence that made you want to research it at all?"

Joshua stared at Ryker while Sam sighed in relief. Ryker had cut through any hurt feelings and hit the nail on the head.

"It's not the violence, really," Sam said. "Well, I mean, it is. More so it was the way it started and how it stopped."

"You mean suddenly," Joshua said.

"Yeah. According to Diana in Baltimore, violence just broke out in weird places. Ethan said fights were breaking out everywhere. When he was trying to contain an upheaval at a club downtown, the fighting just stopped…"

"Like someone threw a light switch," Ryker inserted, repeating what Sam had said earlier.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. And then there was the yin to the yang. People being usually altruistic."

"People often rise to the occasion when there is the need," Joshua pointed out. "Americans are some of the most generous people in the world."

"They are, but like in Stillwater; usual donations to the police benevolent society hovers around twenty-five thousand. During the period of violence, the sum donated was over three-hundred thousand."

"Oh," Joshua said, his eyes wide.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Since Elijah knew about what happened in Houston through Ethan, we decided to see if there were any instances in history where violence broke out without reason and suddenly stopped."

"Bet that went well," Ryker remarked.

Sam decided to make a full confession. "Ethan, Alison and I did a search through much of the world's recorded history and came up with nothing. So we decided to abandon searching for acts of unexplained violence and search social media accounts to see if someone caught anything or anyone odd on video."

"Alison," Joshua said with a sigh. If Alison knew, he had no doubt whatsoever that Caleb knew as well. And that hurt. He felt left out, like he had in earlier years when it was Dean, Sam and Caleb against the world and he was the odd man out; always the odd man out. But while those early years would always leave a scar, he and his Triad had come a long way through the decades they'd worked together. If he looked at the situation with unbiased eyes, he could see how random acts of violence would be difficult to pin a hunt on. "Okay, so you began looking into this because three cops said it was hinky, not because there was any evidence that something supernatural had occurred."

"Hinky?" Sam asked with a smile.

"In this instance, it seemed appropriate."

Ryker rose and said, "I'm going to get us some coffee."

After he'd gone, Sam said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. I wanted to, but I just wasn't sure it was anything. The few reports we got from Jody and Donna were intriguing, but when pressed even they couldn't say whether this was something supernatural. We looked into this on the strength of the sources, not the evidence. It sounded weird, but not supernatural weird…."

Joshua held up a hand. "Sam, stop. I was caught off guard, that's all. It felt like…"

"Back before we were officially the Triad," Dean said from the doorway.

Joshua and Sam both looked startled, not having realized Dean was there.

Moving into the Tomb, Dean walked straight over to Joshua and said, "I'm sorry I didn't bring you in sooner. Truth is, it sounded so weird I didn't think it was much of anything. And you've got a very special young man who needs your attention. I didn't want to take you away unless it really was something." Holding out his hand, his face earnest and sincere, he said, "I'm sorry."

Joshua felt the tension and hurt drain from his body as he smiled and took Dean's hand. "Forgiven."

Dean finally relaxed and returned the older man's smile.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Joshua asked, taking in Dean's pale face.

Waving his hand, Dean said, "I got an hour. I'll get more later." Looking at the piles of paper on the table, he said, "I think we should call this an official hunt."

Sam nodded.

"There's a lot going on if this is spread out over the entire country," Joshua said. Looking over at Sam, he suggested, "We should use the white boards, get ourselves organized."

Ryker walked in carrying three mugs and a carafe of coffee.

Sam pulled two white boards out from against the side wall and started writing the cities where the riots and violence had occurred as well as their populations and who was helping to gather information.

Joshua took over for Dean and focused on Facebook accounts of the violence in the Anaheim area while Ryker began on Twitter. Dean stared around the table at the three men diligently working, and finally rolled his eyes and walked out. Jogging upstairs, he went into his and Juliet's closet, knelt and pried up two one-foot lengths of floorboard. Reaching inside, he lifted out a thick, iron box and carried it over to the bed. A glance at the clock on the nightstand told him it was close to four. If the day's workload was light, Juliet could be home at any time. He needed to hurry.

Opening the drawer on his nightstand, he lifted the false bottom that perfectly matched the interior of the drawer and took out a tiny, intricately designed key. Sitting on the bed, he inserted the key into the lock and murmured, "Per donum Merlini sunt secreta psalmorum. Merlini per magica, scientia est inventus est. Per Merlini ingenio, viribus factum est novum." (_Through Merlin's gift are secrets revealed. Through Merlin's magic, knowledge is found. Through Merlin's gifted, strength is made new_). The key turned slowly to the right, then disappeared into the lock as the lid on the box lifted. Inside were several sheaths of paper, an old scroll, antique coins, a thick roll of bills, some additional keys, a satellite phone and a cell phone. Picking up the cell, he typed _The Guardian_ and sent the text. Thirty seconds later the phone rang.

"_I am the air and darkness, a word, a promise_," Dean quoted as he answered. He always felt rather silly quoting the _The Hollow Hills_ by Mary Stewart, but Jacob insisted on the tradition.

"_I watch in the crystal and I wait in the hollow hills_."

Dean smiled. "How are you, Jacob?"

Jacob Whittell was a member of Dean's personal guard, just as his uncle had been a member of Jim Murphy's. The Whittell family had been touched by the supernatural back when Jacob's great, great grandmother had been killed by a Nachzehrer, a cross between a vampire and a ghoul. They were difficult to kill, and his great, great grandfather – a Los Angeles Police Detective and a former member of the United States Armed Forces - had needed help to kill the creature. Julian and Maxim had stepped in with a copper coin and an axe to kill the thing. After lengthy discussions about the supernatural and what was out there in the world, Martin Whittel had joined the Brotherhood as Julian's personal guard. The family had been involved in the Guardian's personal guard ever since. And like his father, grandfather and several family members, Jacob Whittel was in law enforcement: a special agent in the FBI.

"Well, Sir. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I need some help only you can provide."

"Tell me."

Dean explained what he wanted.

"That will take some time, Sir. Anaheim is a large city with multiple police precincts; there will be hundreds of official reports to comb through. I'll bring in two more operatives to speed the process. You'll have the information by midnight in the usual place."

"Thanks," Dean said, then added, "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Have you heard anything about a Corporation or Company doing biological warfare tests?"

"Biological warfare?"

"Chemical warfare tests," Dean repeated. "Testing new bio-weapons on the population."

Jacob felt his blood run cold. "No, I haven't. But I'll send out feelers. You'll have that information as soon as I can get it."

"Thank you, Jacob."

"Anything for the cause. Night, Sir."

Dean stared at the cell a moment, then put it back into the iron box. Closing the lid, he waited until the key emerged from the lock. It twisted once and glowed bright white before floating out and landing lightly in Dean's open palm. Quickly he returned the key to its hiding place, then slid the box back beneath the floorboards in the closet. He'd just finished replacing all their shoes when he heard the front door open and knew Juliet was home. Rising, he went down and met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Your home," Juliet said with a smile and a kiss.

"We got company, so I didn't go into the garage."

"I saw the cars. Sam and Joshua?"

"And Ryker. Sorry, I forgot to call."

Juliet gave a soft snort. She knew her man, and knew the lifestyle. "Lucky for you, I am always prepared." Dropping her medical bag and purse onto a nearby chair, she went into the kitchen and looked in the freezer. "You want lasagna?"

Dean leaned in from behind and pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck. "I am very lucky."

"Watch it, Mister. We're not alone."

"No, you're not," Sam agreed as he walked into the kitchen. Dean stepped back and huffed as Sam grinned and gave Juliet a quick kiss on the cheek. "How was work?"

"Quiet today. The Mitchner's pure bred had her pups, and that was the extent of the excitement."

"Some days it's good for things to be quiet."

"What about you? We weren't expecting you until tonight," Juliet said as she pulled the family sized lasagna and frozen Italian garlic bread from the freezer.

"I wanted to do some work in the Tomb, so took a personal day," Sam said, taking the garlic bread and placing it on the kitchen windowsill to thaw. "Change of plans for tonight. Joshua is going home for dinner, and Caleb and Onida are coming over. Ryker's staying."

"So we lose one and gain two," Juliet stated.

"Caleb and Onida plan on staying the night?" Dean asked. "Cause that means Sam's upstairs in Ben's room."

"Ben has a double bed, they can sleep there. The room used to be Caleb's anyway," Sam stated, frowning. "First come, first serve."

"You're taking on the Knight, then."

"Where's the pepper spray," Sam muttered, stalking out of the kitchen.

Juliet grinned. "Maybe we should build a steam shower upstairs too. Cut down on the mayhem."

Dean chuckled. "I'll have Caleb design one. He's the architect."

Coming into his arms and smiling, Juliet said, "I get design input rights."

"Anything you say," Dean murmured, lowering his lips to hers.

.

Following a raucous and laughter-filled dinner, Onida and Juliet went into the living room to talk while Dean, Sam, Caleb and Ryker reconvened in the Tomb. Joshua had gone back home before dinner, saying he would continue combing through the remainder of the Facebook accounts. That left Sam finishing up with Instagram while Dean joined Ryker in searching through Twitter and Caleb worked his way through Snapchat. However, before they got started, the Knight brought them up to speed on the emails he'd received from hunters over the last day.

"I've gotten a few emails talking about monsters doing weird things. One new thing; Joel Neubridge and Daniel Rios were hunting a couple of black dogs near Carthage Mississippi, and they said a fog so heavy they couldn't even see a foot in front of their car rolled in."

Dean frowned. "Heavy fog, in Carthage Mississippi?"

Caleb nodded. "Exactly their thoughts. Daniel said they'd almost decided not to bring it up, but finally figured why not. Also, Riley and Bradley had a weird run-in with some Vetalas. Vetalas are usually fairly benign in nature. They…"

"We know about Vetalas," Sam interrupted.

"Anyway," Caleb grumbled, "Three pairs of Vetalas got together and attacked Bradley and Riley, and they had to fight tooth and nail to escape."

"They're all right?" Dean asked, anxiety lacing his voice. The very first hunter rings he'd given out as Guardian were to Riley Boone and Bradley Lowell. He'd created them out of whiskey, and then had wondered if that medium were appropriate for the task.

"They're fine," Caleb said hurriedly. "They were making a strategic retreat when the Vetalas stopped fighting all of a sudden."

"Like someone had flipped a light switch," Ryker murmured.

Caleb nodded. "Then the Vetalas just hightailed it out of there."

"How many were they able to take out?" Dean asked.

"They were rather vague on that point," Caleb said with a smile.

Sam and Ryker exchanged amused looks as Dean smiled and shook his head.

"Anyway, there seems to be some unusual things happening, though not enough to alarm anyone," Caleb finished.

"Then we're back to social media searches," Sam said. "For your searches, try putting in words that will create a broad Google search. Clubs, bars, sports, riots, violence, words like that. Then put in the dates we want highlighted. The search engine will pull up posts both before and after the dates you stated, but let's check them all out."

"I think we know how to do a Google search," Dean muttered, typing on his laptop.

"Really?" Sam asked, staring at his brother. "Since when?"

Dean glanced over and glared. "I've researched hunts since I was eight, Sam. You think I did that by the air method?"

Looking up, Ryker frowned and asked, "The air method?"

Sam rolled his eyes as Caleb chuckled and explained, "Just looking up into empty space and asking for the answer."

"Osmosis," Sam supplied grudgingly.

"Oh," Ryker said with a shrug as he returned his focus to the computer screen.

"I know," Sam said to Dean, wincing. "Sorry. I was in teacher mode."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean mumbled, typing again. "So, violence, huh? How do you spell that…?"

"Shut up and get to work," Sam retorted.

.

After a couple hours of typing, pencils scratching on paper and the clink of mugs on a table surface, Ryker sat up. "I think this is something."

Caleb, Dean and Sam all looked up, eager to hear about anything that might put some meat on the bones of this hunt.

Moving aside some of the table clutter, Ryker turned his computer screen around slightly and pointed to a Twitter photo. "Do you see this? Right here in the corner of this photo… It's a black car. I've seen it thirteen times before."

"Thirteen?" Caleb repeated, brows raised.

Ryker smiled. "I was keeping track of outliers in the photos. For the record, there was a red corvette in five of the photos, license number 2BCF129 driven by Robert Kirkland, who is a bad boy. He's been arrested three times for drunk driving and has spent one night in jail." Looking up, he said, "He likes to party. I also spotted three of the same police cars, and two fire trucks from the same station. But there's been only one sleek car with matte black paint. It's practically invisible."

"Nice job," Dean murmured, leaning over to see the computer.

Sam pulled out a pair of reading glasses and put them on while Dean squinted at the photo. Caleb smiled and sat back, watching.

"Where is it…" Sam asked, frowning.

Ryker rose and leaned over the table. After staring at the photo a moment, he pointed. "Right there. It's really difficult to see."

Sam nodded slowly. "Wow, at night it's practically invisible."

"Matte black paint," Ryker repeated. "This paint job appears to be a deeper black than anything I've ever seen," he looked up and added, "though I haven't done any official research on matte paints."

Caleb chuckled. "Good to know. You said you found thirteen photos like this? You're sure it's the same car and not just cars in shadows?"

Ryker gave Caleb an offended look. "Of course." Going into his computer's bookmarks, he began pulling up the photos one by one. "You can compare the bumper shape, outline of the hood, hubcaps, the shape of headlights and taillights. It's the same car." He opened another bookmark and a car appeared. "I think it's a Hennessey Venom F5."

"Really?" Caleb leaned forward and stared at the showroom model. "That car is a thing of beauty." Sitting back, he said, "We can't go back and re-examine every photo we've already checked for a black car. We've already looked at thousands of photos."

"We refocus our search on videos, whatever platform they're on," Sam said. "Let's see if a video captures whoever is driving."

"Did you see the license plate?" Dean asked.

"Not yet," Ryker stated, shaking his head. "Even catching the car was a fluke. I think whoever is driving it has been very careful to keep in the background. But with so many people recording sensational events, some photo or video was bound to capture him at some point."

"Okay, email a copy of your findings to Alison, Ethan and Elijah," Dean said as he opened his own email. "In the morning Alison can forward the information to our law enforcement friends."

"Don't you think that's premature?" Sam asked with a frown. "I mean, we don't even know if the car has anything to do with the violence."

Dean rubbed his eyes and sighed. "We've gone through thousands of photos and clips without seeing anything. Ryker's find has legs enough to spread the word. We've moved on less before."

"We'll still be looking through the videos, Sam," Caleb said. "Hopefully we'll find some video of the car, now that we have something to look for."

"Okay," Sam said. "Then I'll go back over Facebook. Dean, Instagram; Ryker, continue on with Twitter and Caleb still has Scapchat."

"Joy," Dean muttered, turning back to his computer.

"Just get on it, Princess," Caleb said. "Hopefully this won't take all night."

"Just remember who gets the downstairs bedroom," Sam stated, glowering at Caleb.

Smiling, Caleb merely shrugged. He had an ace up his sleeve named Onida, and she loved the steam shower too.

TCB

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_I haven't heard much from those reading this story, so I hope you guys are enjoying the tale so far. I know I take a lot of time setting up the story. I'm detailed that way. Hang in there!_


	7. Chapter 7

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 07

.

The sun was cresting the horizon as David and Brian raced along the freeway toward New Haven Kentucky. Brian kept shooting furtive glances over at his friend, who was leaning against the passenger front door, hunched over and moaning. Occasionally his form rippled and blurred, as though David was unable to hold himself together.

"I think we should get back to Chicago," Brian said for perhaps the tenth time. "You need to see a Doctor Baine."

David Lassiter held his stomach and groaned. He should never have opened the box. The text on top said not to open it, but he'd done it anyway. His body shifted from young to older and back again. "No," he said on a groan. "I need to get to Dean Winchester before it's too late. Baine is flying in to Louisville. He can meet us at Winchester's." Doctor Wilson Baine was a noted expert on shapeshifter physiology, and a lifelong friend of David's family.

Brian clenched his jaw, but nodded anyway. "Okay." After a moment, he asked, "Do you think the witch can do anything?"

Truthfully, David didn't know. Joshua Sawyer was a skilled witch, but he didn't know if he would be able to help. He didn't even know if Wilson could help. He might be done for, all because of his damned curiosity.

.

_Earlier, before dawn…_

David sipped some coffee as he stared at his notes. He'd gone to bed before Brian last night, but had woken up around five and hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. Figuring they would be leaving soon for Kentucky anyway, he decided he might as well get dressed and see if there was more he could find out about the inscription atop the very intriguing box. The lid, though small, held a lot of information. There were four lines of script across the center. Between each line there were small sigils set in different places: between the first and second line, the sigil was set between the third and fourth word; between the second and third line it was set between the second and third word; between the third and fourth line, it was between the fourth and fifth word. There had to be a reason for such placements. Though he wasn't a language expert by any means, he'd been to enough conferences with Brian to recognize a few language distinctions. Like that in many Eastern writings, especially Hebrew, vowels were placed beneath the consonants in certain places denoting which vowel was being used and how it sounded.

Eyes going to the upper right hand corner of the box, he noted a carving that appeared to have Ancient Asian influence. Brian said it was possibly from oracle bones at Anyang, a Shang Dynasty capital. They were the oldest forms of Chinese language. He hadn't found the specific symbol, but there were enough similarities to others that he hypothesized the symbol meant, Out.

About a half inch in from the upper left corner, and a third of an inch down, there was another symbol Brian said was Phoenician. The language expert was pretty sure it was _qōph_, which meant Eye of Needle. Along the lower portion of the top, there were seven symbols all placed within a quarter inch of one another, but not in a symmetrical line; they were put in some sort of abacus-like sequence that Brian thought was important. Frowning, David picked up Brian's notes of what the symbols could be. He thought a couple might be hieroglyphs or possible cuneiform, but the other five were unknown.

The lines on the middle of the box were what Brian had speculated was an early form of Sumerian, the oldest written language in the world. While he hadn't been able to fill in all the words as of yet, the ones they had filled in were intriguing.

_Hidden_ _(two undeciphered symbols) time,_

_(Three+ undeciphered symbols) mankind dwelled_

_Wailing for knowledge gained (two undeciphered symbols)_

_Beware chaos (three undeciphered symbols) Halt unlock_

The last line was the most haunting; _beware_, _chaos_, more words then _halt unlock, _or Brian said it meant_ do not open_. David studied the small box again. The box was dangerous, he knew that. Did the silver-haired man open it in the club? Is that why the fights broke out? Crossing was known for violence and fights. It was one of the reasons he and Brian stopped there occasionally; to let off a little steam. So logically he couldn't connect up the box and the fights. But Brian suddenly punching him? Yes, there had to be a connection. One of his closest friends since childhood, Brian was as retiring as a Shapeshifter could be. Calm, contemplative and studious. Brian wouldn't punch him without provocation.

Picking up the box, David studied the smooth, ancient piece. It could take weeks to decode the sigils, words and symbols across the surface. What would happen if he did open the box? Yes, the last line of script was a warning. But the most expedient path to finding out what was in the box was to open it. But he wouldn't do it alone. Brian would watch and stand guard in case he was needed. Looking over at the bed near the bathroom wall, he could tell his friend was deeply asleep. He'd probably stayed up most of the night working on the translations.

Standing, David went into the bathroom and took a shower, shaved and got dressed for the day. When he walked out, he noted it was just after six in the morning. Stepping close to Brian's bed, it was with some regret that he woke his friend.

"Wha…" Brian murmured, turning slowly and blinking sleepily up at David. "Time to go?"

"Not just yet," David said. "But there's something I want to do, and I need you up. Plus, I'd like to get on the road. It's just over three hours to Winchester's home."

Shifting onto his back, Brian gave David a disgruntled look. "I still think we should just take the box home, work on the inscription. Why should we give it to Winchester?"

"Because this is what he does."

"He's the enemy," Brian stated.

David shrugged slightly. "Possibly. But he and the Brotherhood have left Chicago to us to patrol and keep in line. I think that says a lot about his tolerance."

"Maybe," Brian retorted grudgingly.

Smiling, David wacked the other man on the legs and said, "Get up. I'm going to open the box."

That announcement got Brian up and out of bed in a flash. "What?!" he exclaimed. "No, you are not going to open that box. The inscription says it's dangerous."

"Technically the inscription says _beware_, _chaos_," David observed.

"It says _do not open_," Brian countered, coming right up in David's face. "Ancient languages, ancient times were not like our modern era. They said what they meant. Simple words carried weighty warnings. This box saying do not open is important and not to be disregarded."

David sighed. "I know the warning is dire. But these symbols and sigils…" he waved his hand at the box, "it could take weeks to decipher."

"You said Winchester had resources that could help."

"Yes, he does. But we don't know that even with his resources this won't take weeks."

"And we don't know the reverse," Brian declared. "If we're going all the way there to turn over the box, give them the chance to figure this out before we take a possibly fatal step."

David chuckled. "Now who's being melodramatic?"

Brian growled.

Stowing his humor, David said earnestly, "I know it's risky. But I believe the silver-haired man opened the box in the club and we're fine."

Frowning, Brian asked, "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because you hit me," David said simply.

Brian flushed. "I…"

Waving his hand, David came over and gave Brian's arm a comforting squeeze. "I know you didn't mean to do it, you wouldn't have done it. That's how I know he opened the box. Because you wouldn't."

Brian sighed. Knowing David was determined to jump the gun, he also knew he would be there to watch over his friend like always. "Okay, fine. Let me get ready. I want our things packed and ready to go if something goes wrong."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but I want to be ready." Holding up a hand to forestall any arguments, Brian stated, "You've waited this long, you can wait another twenty minutes for me to get showered and dressed." Heading toward the bathroom, he said over his shoulder, "You can pack our things while I'm inside."

"Yeah," David muttered as the bathroom door shut with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. "I'm the head of the biggest and strongest non-human faction in Chicago, and I'm the one cleaning up the room."

Twenty-five minutes later, with the bags packed and sitting by the hotel room door, David and Brian stood in the center of the room holding the box.

Brian looked nervous and extremely reluctant to move forward. "I still think we should wait," he said one last time.

"Maybe we should. But something in me says what's in here is too important to wait." David shook his head. "I don't know why, but it is."

"Okay. But just tip the lid. Don't open it completely, all right?"

"Yeah, okay."

David looked at the box and made sure he had the hinged part facing Brian with the end that would open facing him. Taking a deep breath, he cracked open the box … and the world spiraled away.

"David!"

.

_Now…_

"We're almost there," Brian said again, as he tried to keep his speed down through the streets of New Haven. Luckily it was the weekend, a time when many people took it easy in the morning and the day started later.

"Time is it," David murmured, grunting as his body shifted again.

"A little before nine."

David glanced slowly over at his friend. "You made time."

"I went ninety the entire way. We'll probably get a ticket in the mail. I think I left two highway patrol cops in the dust."

"I'll … take care … of it," David grunted. "Need to call Dean."

"Why?"

"His home … will be warded," David said, grimacing slightly as he shifted again. "Either he'll let us in, or he'll need … to come to us."

Brian pulled his cell from his pocket and called.

"Hello?" said a female voice.

"Dean Winchester, please," Brian said. A moment later a male voice came on.

"This is Winchester."

"My name is Brian Mayfare. Do you remember David Lassiter?"

"From Chicago," Dean said.

"Yes. We're on our way to you on urgent business," Brian said. "We're in possession of an artifact you should see and we're bringing it to you. Do we have permission to come to your home?"

There was silence for a moment as Dean considered the ramifications of allowing shapeshifters onto his property. Monsters weren't welcome here, but he'd dealt with David occasionally through the years. Lassiter had done an admiral job keeping the monster population of Chicago under control. Making a decision, he said, "Give me thirty minutes. I'll have someone meet you at the gate. They'll have potion pouches for you to wear, and he'll escort you to the house."

"Thank you," Brian said and hung up. Glancing over at David, he said, "We're on."

David nodded. He hoped his body held together a little bit longer.

.

"You sure allowing shapeshifters here is a good idea?" Sam asked. "Everyone is coming over today."

"I don't like monsters at the farm," Caleb said. He and Sam had always felt protective of Dean's family and his home. Monsters just didn't come to the farm.

"David Lassiter worked a hunt with me and Sam years ago, and he's kept the monster population in Chicago under control for decades. We haven't had to do a job there except a simple haunting for years."

"I know who he is," Caleb stated impatiently.

"Well, it's not like we haven't worked with monsters before," Sam said.

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I don't like them coming _here_," he stressed.

"I don't believe they're a threat, and they were already on their way," Dean said with a sigh. "We'll find out what's what and send them home."

Ryker walked into the living room, holding up two pouches. "These pouches give temporary entry onto the farm. When they're ready to leave, I'll take them back to the road and retrieve the spell pouches."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

"I'll head down the drive and wait for them," Ryker said, snagging his coat from the stand in the hallway. "Also, Juliet said breakfast will get cold if you don't get in there."

"Noted," Dean said, leading the way into the kitchen.

.

Brian's speed surged as he got through New Haven and out onto the more rural roads. Within ten minutes he'd reached the outer gates to Dean Winchester's farm. A very tall young man stood beside a car. Brian slowed to a stop and rolled down his window.

The young man approached and said, "Put these on, please."

Brain took the pouches and slung one over his head, and the other over David's.

Ryker smiled. "Follow me."

Nodding, Brian put the car in gear and started down the dirt road to the Winchester farm house.

.

Juliet passed the platter of scrambled eggs Caleb. "Should we set the table for two more?"

"I think they just want to drop something off, then they're leaving," Dean said, passing the basket of biscuits to Sam.

"Why couldn't they just leave whatever it is with Ryker?" Caleb asked, topping off his coffee mug. Suddenly, a sharp needle-like pain stabbed through his head, leaving a throbbing ache behind. Grimacing slightly, he reached up and massaged his forehead.

Dean shrugged, filling his plate. "Maybe he wanted a face-to-face. I haven't seen Lassiter in…" he paused, thinking back, "seven years? Something like that."

Sam took the scrambled eggs that had been passed his way and was ladling his plate when the faint throbbing in his head intensified. Handing the platter off, he got up and grabbed the bottle of aspirin.

"This looks amazing, as always," Onida said, grinning. Family, all sitting around the table over a meal was something she hadn't had for years, and she enjoyed it every time she came over.

"Thanks," Juliet said with a smile. She loved preparing Saturday breakfasts for family. Since Ben, JT and Jimmy were grown and had their own places, it wasn't often her weekend table was full and she could lay out a spread. She planned on a lingering breakfast replete with great conversation and laughter.

Caleb grimaced again as he passed the plate of biscuits on to Onida.

"When are Joshua, Carolyn and Nicholas getting here?" Juliet asked.

"Around eleven," Dean said. He got a text and looked down at his phone. _Guests arrived. Coming in_.

"You know we don't do phones at the table," Juliet chided, smiling.

"Just Ryker letting me know our guests have arrived," Dean said. Rising, he went into the living room and checked out the front window. The vehicles were a short distance from the house when a cry of pain split the chatter of conversation in the kitchen.

"ARRHHGGG!"

Dean dashed back into the kitchen as Caleb staggered from the table, holding his head in his hands, moaning. Doubling over in pain, he dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his nose onto the kitchen floor.

"Caleb!" Onida cried as she bolted from her chair. When she touched Caleb, she snatched her hands back as though she'd been scorched.

"Dean…"

Dean jerked around to see that Sam was holding his head like Caleb, his eyes wide. Blood was leaking from his nose.

Just then Ryker opened the front door and stepped inside. Hearing the commotion from the kitchen, he rushed in saying, "What the hell?"

A moment later Brian stepped into the doorway, supporting David.

Caleb groaned again and collapsed onto his side. Sam's head was down on the table, a narrow trail of blood running across the wood surface.

"Ryker," Dean barked, and pointed to Sam. "Onida, find out what's wrong with Caleb." Turning, he went to the front door.

"I…" Onida looked startled, then immediately nodded and leaned over the older man. "Caleb, can you hear me?"

That Caleb moaned in response was a good sign that he was at least somewhat coherent.

A towel appeared over her shoulder and Onida nodded to Juliet. Onida put the towel to Caleb's face. "Tell me what's wrong," she demanded.

"It's … wrong," Caleb muttered on a moan. "Stop … it …"

At the door, Dean eyed David, who was completely white, his face shifting slightly between his younger and older self.

"We need help," Brian said. He had David's arm over his shoulder as he supported the other man. "Can we come in?"

Dean nodded and stepped aside just as Caleb cried out again.

"What's going on?" Dean demanded, keeping hold of the door.

"Are you going to let us in or not?" Brian demanded. "He needs to sit."

Dean didn't feel threatened by Brian or David, so he stepped back and led them into the living room.

Brian lowered David onto the sofa and sat down beside him. "Hanging in there?" he asked.

"Yes," David moaned. "Tell him."

.

Onida took a deep breath, orienting and centering herself before she reached out and touched Caleb again. Even still, she gasped as her entire core was shaken. His mind was shifting wildly on a molecular level, almost as though his cells were phasing. Something was causing the imbalance, and she couldn't help rectify it if she couldn't shield him. Opening her eyes, she looked around and saw Ryker leaning over Sam, who was slumped onto the kitchen table. "Protection circle," she snapped.

Ryker immediately ran out of the room and leapt up the stairs. He returned seconds later with his wand.

"Get them side by side," Onida ordered.

Ryker and Juliet grabbed Sam and dragged him near to where Caleb lay on the floor. Juliet quickly shoved the kitchen table and chairs to the side and out of the way as Ryker stretched Sam out beside Caleb. Beginning the protection chant, Ryker moved around all five of them, making sure there was enough room for legs and movement. Just before the circle was closed, he murmured another few words, pricked his finger and sealed the circle with his blood. A bright blue light raced in a circle around the five and hovered about three inches above the ground.

Juliet stared at the display, wide-eyed. She knew magic existed, knew the supernatural did as well. But rarely has she seen it enacted within her own home.

As soon as the circle closed, Caleb collapsed onto the floor, unmoving.

Onida immediately leaned in, closed her eyes and touched Caleb's head. Slowly she touched the brain cells focusing on the pulsing right para hippocampal gyrus and the amygdala. Soon, she had a headache, but Caleb's cells stopped bouncing all over the place. When she pulled back, she slumped slightly and rubbed her throbbing temple.

Slowly Caleb opened his eyes.

"Are you all right?" Ryker asked anxiously.

Swallowing gingerly, Caleb pushed himself up and nodded. "I … think so." His head felt twice its usual size and ached like the throbbing of a stubbed toe. Looking around, he noted Sam on the floor, unconscious, blood dripping onto a towel beneath his nose. "Sam!"

"I got it," Onida assured him. "Just give me a second."

"She needs some food," Caleb mumbled, wiping at his own bloody face with a towel.

"Can I get out without disturbing the circle?" Juliet asked.

Ryker nodded.

Stepping outside the glowing oval, Juliet picked up a biscuit and tucked two pieces of bacon inside before she returned to the circle and handed the food to Onida.

Onida gave Juliet a weak smile before quickly eating, grateful her energy levels were evening out. When she finished, she went over to Sam, closed her eyes once again and touched his temples.

.

Dean stepped back into the living room from the kitchen and demanded, "What's going on?"

David pushed himself up into a sitting position and tried desperately to control his body. "Good … to see you again, Dean."

Dean sighed. Crossing the floor, he sat down in a chair opposite the sofa. "Cut the crap and tell me what's happening. Are you all right?"

"I've … been better," David stated, grimacing. "I did something stupid, and now have to … pay the price." Glancing toward the kitchen, he had a feeling he knew who had cried out. "Are Caleb and … Sam all right?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly. How had David known Sam and Caleb were in trouble? "They'll be fine in a minute. What about you?"

"Truthfully, I don't know," David stated.

"Doctor Wilson is on his way here," Brian stated. "I hope he's able to help."

Dean did too. David Lassiter had been very successful in keeping the monster families of Chicago in line, and that made his own job much easier. He didn't want the Shapeshifter to die. "He's a shapeshifter?"

"Yes," Brian said.

Dean nodded, feeling like he'd lost all control of this situation. Caleb and Sam down for the count, shapeshifters in Pastor Jim's living room, yeah, this was turning out to be a catastrophe of a morning. "Have him call when he gets close. We'll bring him in."

"Brian … will tell you about … the box … everything," David murmured as he slumped back and closed his eyes.

Brian leaned over his friend a moment, then sighed and turned to Dean. "We were in Mount Vernon Illinois last night, at a club called Crossing. It's known as a haunt for the young and reckless."

"Didn't you stand out?" Dean asked.

Brian smiled and shifted into a younger version of himself from some twenty years ago.

"Oh, yeah."

"We don't stop there often, but it's a great place to just relax, play some pool, maybe throw a punch or two. We were having a couple of beers when I just…" Brian shook his head in resigned disgust, "I suddenly punched David."

David opened his eyes and glared at his friend. "For the last time, not your fault."

"I know, I know," Brian sighed. "Anyway, at the same time fights broke out all over the place. David goes for the door and sees this guy coming around the far side of the building. He gets into a…"

"Let me guess," Dean interrupted, "a matte, black sports car."

David's eyes shot open and he pushed himself up. "How did you know?"

"I'll get into that later. Go on."

David stared at Dean a moment before nodding to Brian as he leaned back against the sofa.

"When he drove off, we went around the corner where he'd been, and David found this…" Brian pulled a small box from his pocket and held it out.

Dean took the box gingerly and examined it. "What is it?"

"Truth? I'm not sure. David found it buried around the side of the building."

Juliet came to the doorway and Dean looked over. "How are they?"

"They're fine. Onida took care of it."

Dean looked over at the Shapeshifter, then suddenly stood. Looking to Brian, he said, "I'll be right back." Hurrying into the kitchen, he was gratified to see Sam and Caleb sitting up inside the protection circle. "You both all right?"

Sam nodded, a towel still held under his nose. "We're fine. Headache."

"Massive headache," Caleb corrected.

Dean smiled and looked at Onida. "Thanks. You think you might be able to help Lassiter?"

"He's a shapeshifter," Caleb declared.

"And she's only healed humans," Sam said, looking to Onida, "right?"

"But she fought Owl Witches. They're not human."

"And I'm right here," Onida declared, giving everyone a glare. Pushing herself up off the floor, she said to Dean, "Shapeshifters?" At Dean's nod, she said, "I'll try."

"Then I'm going too," Caleb declared.

"I wouldn't…" Ryker started to say, but he was too late. Caleb had taken only one step outside the circle before he cried out in pain and his noise started bleeding again. Rolling his eyes, the young Advisor helped Caleb sit back down the moment Dean pushed him back inside the circle. "What I was going to say," he stressed, "is that Onida said you felt the effects of whatever is going on before we got to the door. His being _inside_ the house should make it worse. Stay inside the circle until she sees if she can help."

"All right, fine," Caleb groused. Looking over at Dean, he said, "Don't let her do anything if it's too dangerous."

"Again," Onida stated, a warning threaded through her voice, "Standing right here. I'll check the situation out, see if I can help." When she saw the concern on Caleb's face, she leaned down and said, "I'll know whether I can or not, so don't worry."

Brian looked up when Dean re-entered the living room. "You have someone who might be able to help?"

"Maybe," Dean said cautiously.

A moment later Onida walked in. Going toward David, she frowned when she saw his body morphing. "I don't know what your cells normally look like, so I don't know if I can help."

"Can you use me as a blueprint?" Brian asked.

"Maybe. I'm going to touch your head. Can you shift while I'm touching you so I can see how your cells function?"

"Yes," Brian said, "But this is happening all over his body."

"I understand. But for Caleb and Sam the disturbance centered in the brain, and when you shift, isn't that an act of your mind _choosing_ to change?"

"It is," David murmured.

"Then that's where I'll start."

Onida touched Brian's head, frowning slightly. "Interesting," she murmured. "Wow, that's interesting." After a second, she said, "Okay, change."

Brain shifted from his forty-something self to his younger twenty-something self.

"Ooh, very interesting," Onida mumbled. Disengaging from Brain, she immediately touched David's temples. Gasping, she winced at the chaotic collision of cells.

Dean leaned forward, ready to intervene.

"If she's in any danger, I'll separate them," Brian declared.

"Thank you," Dean said.

A car sounded from outside, and Dean stood, looking out the window. Juliet walked into the hallway indicating that she'd hear the car as well. "It's Joshua, Carolyn, Max and Nicholas," he said.

"I'll take care of it," Juliet said, moving to the front door.

The front door opened and Juliet said, "Hello!" Looking around Joshua, she saw Max carting a cage with the puppies. Smiling at Nicholas, she said, "Why don't you and your mama come with me and we'll let the puppies out in the backyard after their ride."

Nicholas looked up at Joshua. "Back?" he murmured.

Joshua crouched down and said, "Let's take care of the puppies first, then we'll see your godfather, all right?"

Nicholas smiled and nodded. Juliet met Joshua's eyes for a moment as she stepped out the front door. The screen door shut behind her. Looking to Max, she said, "Follow me!" She held out a hand for Nicholas, and together she and Carolyn led the young boy around the side of the house, Max following, though he looked back over his shoulder at Joshua.

Joshua stepped inside the house, asking, "What's up?"

Dean gave him a quick synopsis of the last hour, which had Joshua rushing into the kitchen to check out Caleb and Sam.

"Are you two all right?" Joshua asked from outside the protection circle.

Caleb nodded as Sam said, "Pretty much, yeah."

"Headache," Caleb added.

"They're all right as long as they stay inside the circle," Ryker informed his mentor. "One foot outside and the nose bleeds and head trauma starts immediately."

Rolling his eyes, Caleb said, "It wasn't that bad."

"You were on the floor practically unconscious," Ryker stated firmly.

Joshua went immediately to the stove to make some of the tea he usually mixed when either Caleb or Sam had headaches resulting from psychic encounters. "Want to tell me what happened?"

"Truth is," Caleb said, "we don't know. Maybe David Lassiter has the answer."

Joshua turned around. "The shapeshifter from Chicago?"

Caleb nodded. "Said he was delivering something. Must be important, to come here from Chicago."

Joshua pulled down a couple of mugs, and poured in the lukewarm liquid. Taking it over to the circle, he said, "Sorry it's not very hot, but I thought you'd like some relief."

First Caleb, then Sam took the mugs and drank.

"I'm going to see what's happening," Joshua said, leaving the kitchen.

.

Back in the living room, Brian looked at Dean, his brows raised in question.

"Barbeque today," Dean answered the unasked question.

Brian's eyes closed a moment before he murmured, "I'm sorry."

Joshua walked over to where Dean was sitting, Onida working nearby. "They're drinking some of my tea," he said softly.

"Shhhh," Onida mumbled, as she frowned. Her face was pale as she attempted to stabilize cells that were meant to shift and change shape. Suddenly she smiled. There was a frequency, a spiral code to the Shapeshifter cells that she could tap into. She focused on resonating the cells to that frequency, and the molecules began to stabilize. It took almost all her energy, but she was able to stabilize David's cell structure to match Brian's before she slumped back, nearly falling out of the chair in which she was sitting.

Dean leaned over quickly and held her in place. "I got you," he murmured. Over his shoulder, he said, "Joshua; see if Caleb can step outside the circle now."

A moment later, Caleb rushed into the living room and lifted Onida into his arms.

Giving him a tired smile, Onida patted his cheek lightly and murmured, "Food, then sleep."

Nodding, Caleb walked out.

Sam stepped into the living room followed by Joshua and now Max, who'd come in through the back door. "Is everything all right?"

"Looks like it," Dean said, rising. Over his shoulder he saw Juliet standing in the doorway. Walking over, he murmured, "The kitchen?"

"We're putting it to rights. Ryker is cleaning up the protection circle." She looked over at Brian who was hovering over David as the later slowly sat up, stretching his arms and shoulders. "They're invited to lunch."

Dean huffed out a laugh and nodded.

"Are you all right?" Brian asked anxiously.

"I think I'm fine," David answered, marveling. Suddenly he shifted into his twenty-something self, the self Dean had met for the first time years ago, before allowing his body to shift back into his older self. "I'm fine." Looking at Dean, he said, "Thank you."

"Thank Onida," Dean said. "Want to finish telling me what's going on and what's in the box?"

"Truth is, David didn't get a good look inside the box before his body went haywire," Brian said. "So that part's still a mystery. But I do have more information." He resumed the narrative about the box and decoding the symbols and sigils on top as Sam and Joshua came over. Dean handed them the box, and they leaned in close to examine the lid. Pulling out the sheaths of papers, Brian went over his findings, excitedly answering Sam and Joshua's questions.

After a few minutes, Dean looked over at David and saw the other man was almost asleep, his eyes half-massed. Smiling, he rose and motioned for David to follow him into the kitchen.

Juliet and Carolyn were outside in the back playing with an excited Nicholas who was showing off his puppies. Ryker and Max were preparing the barbeque, and Dean knew the young advisor was bringing Max up to speed on all that had happened in the last day.

Moving to the table, now back in its usual spot, Dean asked, "Want some eggs?"

"Thank you," David said wearily. "I haven't eaten since yesterday noon."

Dean put the bacon back in the pan to warm up, the biscuits were returned to the oven on low. Though there were eggs left from their aborted breakfast, he hated the rubbery texture cold eggs acquired after sitting for too long. Cracking five fresh eggs into a bowl, Dean added some spices and seasoning and whipped them vigorously before pouring the mixture into a large skillet on the stove. "There's coffee in the pot," he said.

David nodded. Clamoring slowly to his feet, he pulled a mug from the open cupboard and poured himself a cup. Taking a few bracing sips, he sat back down and sighed. After a moment, he murmured, "I shouldn't have opened the box."

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the Shapeshifter and said, "Tell me what happened without all the glyphs, sigils and symbols mumbo-jumbo."

David chuckled and told Dean about the man at the club, and how he'd felt his power the moment he walked inside.

"You could sense he was powerful?"

"You can't be in a position of keeping peace in a territory of non-humans without recognizing power when it walks in the door," David explained. "It resonated from his like a … a current."

"An aura?" Dean supplied. He'd been around Onida enough that he recognized the power of auras.

"No, much more powerful than that," David stated. "An aura is a manifestation of self. This was more like a manifestation of everyone's self."

David turned around, two plates balanced in his hands and froze. "Everyone?"

"That's as close an analogy as I can come up with."

Dean placed a plate in front of David, and sat down opposite.

Picking up a fork, David dug quickly into his full plate, relishing the warmth of food in his belly after such a long abstinence. He figured conversation could wait, seeing that Dean was also concentrating on his meal.

As Dean ate, though, his thoughts were focused on what could possibly have an aura-like power of everyone. Would angels? Had David ever sensed one?

Once the edge was taken off his hunger, David took another sip of coffee and said, "Anyway, right after Brian punched me, I looked back around at the table in the corner, and the man was gone. I rushed to the door and checked outside. That's when I saw him come around the far corner of the building, get into a car and drive away."

"Did you catch a license plate?" Caleb asked as he walked back into the kitchen and sat down.

"How's Onida?" David asked anxiously.

"She's fine," Caleb stated. "Tired. She's asleep upstairs."

Dean covered his smile. Caleb had lost the coin toss to Sam, so Sam had gotten the downstairs guest room with the steam shower. He made a mental note to ask Caleb to design one for upstairs.

"Good," David finished his eggs and ate the last piece of his biscuit before saying, "No, no license plate, unless the plate wasn't lit."

"Isn't it illegal to have a dark plate at the rear of the car?" Caleb asked, looking at Dean.

"Yeah. The rear license plate needs to be clearly visible to all law enforcement."

"He wants to be invisible," David said suddenly. Looking up at Caleb and Dean, he said, "The black paint? It's darker than any black I've ever seen. And making it matte makes the car much harder to see at night. And now that I think about it, he drove away without headlights."

"He didn't turn on his headlights till he got on the road?" Caleb asked.

David put down his fork. "He didn't turn them on at all. I watched the car disappear down the road, and he didn't turn them on at all."

The backdoor opened suddenly and Nicholas bounded in, running toward Dean and throwing himself into Dean's open arms.

Max stepped inside and smiled. "I couldn't keep him outside one minute longer. He's been excited about seeing you since yesterday."

David rose and put his empty plate in the kitchen sink. "I'm heading back into the living room," he said with a smile.

Nicholas looked up at Dean and said, "Back."

"Back," Dean murmured, brushing his hand over Nicholas' silky blonde hair. "Did you have a good week?"

Nicholas nodded. Turning, he pointed outside and said, "Puppies."

"Puppies?" Dean repeated. "You mean more than one?"

Nicholas nodded.

Grinning, Dean stood, lifting the child into his arms with a groan. "You're getting big," he commented, tickling the boy's tummy.

Nicholas giggled and pointed again to the door.

"Let's go see these new puppies," Dean said, moving around Max and out into the back yard.

Max closed the door behind Dean and Nicholas, then came over and sat down at the table. Eyeing Caleb, he asked, "What's going on? You look like crap."

"Oh, thanks," Caleb muttered, running his fingers through his gray hair. Standing, he went over to the stove and lifted the lid on a pan sitting on one of the burners. The smell of warming bacon wafted out. Glancing over his shoulder, he asked, "You have breakfast already?"

Max nodded.

Caleb turned back and poured a small amount of oil in the empty skillet, then broke a couple eggs in and started scrambling them together. He explained about David Lassiter and his friend, and the box. "We don't know what it is or what happened. Sam and Josh are out there now talking with Brian."

"Who's Brian?"

"Brian Mayfare, I think. I've never met him, but Elijah probably knows him. He teaches ancient languages at the University of Chicago."

"So this guy is one of the best resources for deciphering the symbols on the box, huh?"

Caleb shrugged, bringing his plate replete with eggs, bacon and biscuits to the table. "Probably, after us. But the Brotherhood has more resources than almost anywhere else. That's probably why Lassiter wanted to bring the box here."

Max nodded. After a minute or two, he rose and went to fetch a biscuit before returning to the table. "We plan on working today, or going on with the barbeque?"

"Barbeque," Caleb said without hesitation. "Ben and his brood should be here anytime, and Jimmy soon after."

"I wish JT could be here."

"He might make it by this evening, catch the tail end of the festivities."

Max looked up. "You sent the Ames jet for him, didn't you?" Shaking his head, he said, "You're so out of control."

"Hey, everyone needs to be here for a briefing tonight. So if I need to send the jet for my own godson, that's my business."

Max laughed. Rising, he said, "I'm going to see what Dad and Sam are working on."

"Yeah, you do that," Caleb muttered. When he finished his breakfast, he jogged upstairs to check on Onida before coming back down and starting the kitchen clean up. His head was still aching, so he opened the side cabinet and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. He downed three tablets before getting back to work. After stacking the dishwasher, he set it running while drying the grease off the remainder of the bacon and putting it in the refrigerator. A look at the clock told him it was almost eleven, and he was sure Ben would be here within the hour.

When the kitchen was spotless and ready for the lunch run, Caleb walked down the hallway to the Tomb. Sitting, he stared at the white boards and the seven cities outlined there. If Lassiter and Mayfare were to be believed, then Mount Vernon Illinois was an eighth city where unexplained violence erupted. Getting up, he went to the small television in the corner and turned it on. Retaking his seat, he flipped around through the channels till he found a current news broadcast. As he listened, he opened one of the laptops and typed in Mount Vernon, KY. Other than a small piece about how there was another mess as usual at Crossing, there was nothing on escalating violence in the city. After trying a few more searches, Caleb slowly closed the laptop.

So Lassiter and Mayfare were having a beer and looking to let off a little steam at a club known for fights and brawls. Lassiter notices a powerful man come in. Soon after Mayfare throws a punch and fights break out all throughout the bar. When Lassiter looks around, the man is gone. He follows, and sees the man round the corner of the club and drive off. Lassiter finds the box, pulls it out of the hole, and when Mayfare goes back inside, most of the fighting has stopped and people are bellying up to the bar for more drinks. So did the box have anything to do with the cessation of fighting, or the man leaving? Too bad both happened at virtually the same time.

Standing, he went to the second white board and studied the pictures tacked up there. Before heading to bed the previous night, Caleb, Ryker, Sam and Dean found another twelve captures of the black Hennessy Viper: three still shots and nine glimpses on video. But they hadn't seen any pictures of the person who owned the car. "Damn," he murmured, "This guy really knows how to cover his tracks."

"What's all this?"

"Possible sightings of our mysterious bad guy," Caleb stated, not turning around. He'd felt Max coming long before he stepped into the Tomb.

Max moved over to the whiteboard and studied the printouts. After a few moments, he said, "The car?"

"Well done, grasshopper," Caleb said with a smile. The Venom wasn't easy to spot in the photos, especially if one didn't know exactly what they were looking for. "What I'm looking at now, is where does this guy like to park…"

Max frowned. "You mean methodology."

"Exactly right," Caleb murmured, his eyes studying a particular picture in the upper right corner of the board. "Everyone, even monsters have tells; places that make them feel comfortable. We just need to find his."

Max turned to the table and picked up a second legal pad and a pencil. "Okay, I'll take the photos on the left," he remarked.

.

Dean sat on the backyard grass with Juliet and Nicholas, playing with the puppies until Ben arrived, bringing Mac and Lisa Anne. That gave him the out to stand and step back as Mac and Lisa Anne squealed over the two small balls of fluff.

After greeting Ben and kissing Maya on the cheek, Dean demanded he and Juliet get their due of hugs and kisses from Mac and Lisa Anne before the children resumed their playtime with the pups.

"Thank goodness we can now sit in chairs," Juliet whispered, lowering herself into one of the comfy lawn chairs next to Carolyn while Maya was on Carolyn's other side. Ben and Ryker stood near the barbeque, chatting.

Dean chuckled. "I'm going to check on Sam, Josh and the other two."

"You mean our guests," Juliet stated archly.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked inside. It would be rude not to invite David and Brian to lunch, especially since David had injured himself bringing them the box that was so enthralling Joshua and Sam. Passing through the kitchen, he noted all the breakfast things had been cleaned up, probably courtesy of Caleb, since it would take a bulldozer to drag Sam away from any cryptic puzzle. He took a step into the living room and smiled.

Sam, Brian and Joshua were sitting around the coffee table, talking animatedly while David was asleep, his head dropped back against the sofa back. Chuckling, Dean walked over.

Sam looked up and smiled. "This box is certainly a puzzle. Brian says the lid is covered with a mix of Phoenician, hieroglyphs, cuneiform, ancient Chinese and even a language that predates Sumerian. Sumerian is the oldest written language in the world."

"The oldest?"

"Well, beside Enochian," Sam clarified.

"Enochian?" Brian asked, his brow furrowed.

"Angelic language," Sam said.

Brian's eyes widened and his mouth opened into a perfect "o."

Dean smiled. "You and David are welcome to stay for lunch." Pointing to David, he continued, "I'm going to put him in the guest bedroom, let him get some sleep."

Brian flushed in embarrassment as he jumped to his feet. "Gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize…"

Dean waved the other man back down. "Don't worry, I got it." Shaking David, he said, "Come on, let's get you lying down."

David blinked heavily up at Dean a moment before nodding and leveraging himself up off the cushioned surface.

Together they walked to the ground floor guest room. When they stepped inside, Dean was thankful to see that Sam had made the bed, though his duffel was still in the corner. He dropped David off at the side of the bed, then went into the bathroom to pull out clean towels. When he got back, David was slumped on the edge of the bed, blinking tiredly. Picking up Sam's duffel, he said, "There are fresh towels in the bathroom if you want a shower later. Lunch will be on in a couple of hours."

David looked up, startled. "What? No," he pushed himself up. "If there's a hotel nearby, Brian and I will check in there. We'll come back over after your family get-together."

"No need," Dean said, gently pushing David back down. "You're welcome to stay. Just don't mention shapeshifting; Juliet doesn't like talk about the supernatural."

David relaxed back on the bed with a smile. "She doesn't, huh?"

Dean dropped into one of the high-backed chairs decorating the room. "No. She knows it exists, knows what I do, but she doesn't participate."

David found that fact fascinating. Everyone in his household embraced the supernatural. Then again, he and his family _were_ the supernatural. Kind of hard to run from yourself. He wanted to ask what Juliet did, but there was a line between monster and hunter that he didn't want to cross.

Dean watched David's face, and said, "Veterinarian; Juliet is a veterinarian."

Nodding his head, David gave Dean a nod, a thank you for extending him the courtesy. Suddenly he yawned.

Standing, Dean said, "Get some sleep. I'll have Brian come get you when lunch is served. Later we'll talk about the hunt."

David couldn't help but smile. "This will be my second hunt. I think I'm excited about that."

Dean chuckled and walked out, shutting the door behind him. Though he'd known David Lassiter for years, was comfortable with him keeping the supernatural of Chicago in line, he was still uneasy about him being in his home. When the man left, he thought he'd reinforce his protections against shapeshifters, just to be on the safe side.

When he stepped back into the hallway, his cell rang, the surface showing the name Jimmy. Smiling, he answered. "You close by?"

"I'm at the end of the road. There's a guy who says he's a doctor here to see David Lassiter." In a sotto whisper he continued, "Isn't he the shifter from Chicago?"

"Yeah. Hang tight. Ryker's going to bring a spell pouch down and you can escort him to the house."

There was a moment where Dean could hear gravel crunching beneath James' shoes. Then James said, "You're letting shapeshifters in the house?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just wait for Ryker."

Fifteen minutes later the front door opened and James walked in, followed by Ryker and an older man with a medical bag clutched in his hand.

"Hey Dad," James said, leaning in for his customary hug. "This is Doctor Baine."

"Wilson?" Brian came jogging out of the living room.

"Where is he?" Wilson Baine asked anxiously.

"He's fine," Brian assured the other man. Looking toward Dean, he pointed questioningly down the hallway.

Dean nodded. "Second door on the left."

James frowned as he watched the two men disappear down the hallway. "Since when do shapeshifters get to come in the house?"

Shaking his head with a huff of laughter, Dean said, "We'll get into all this later." Sticking his head into the living room, he called, "Sam, Josh, let's get this barbeque on the road!"

* * *

Ethan stood and stretched.

Grace Hoàng yawned. "I think that's our guy."

"Maybe," Ethan conceded cautiously. "There's the white haired one too."

"He's too old." Frowning, Grace continued, "Of course, he could be on the board of one of those chemical companies. One of the theories floating around is a biological warfare test."

"True," Ethan said, yawning.

Grace chuckled.

Smiling, Ethan dropped into his chair and said, "Why don't you go home, get some sleep. I'll check in with Renault, have him touch base with Lieutenant Gutierrez, catch him and the night shift up on where we're at, paperwork-wise." Another yawn split his face.

"Then you're going home to get some sleep too," Grace stated, rising.

"After I turn our results over to the FBI," Ethan said, pushing himself up to his feet again. "I'd like this mess in the hands of the people who are paid to deal with it." Stretching again, he continued quietly, "I want Houston back, warts and all. I want regular crime on the streets, the occasional bar brawl that ends with a round of drinks…"

"The robber who gets caught in three blocks and the house call that ends with the husband and wife both in tears and hugging," Grace finished with a wry smile.

Ethan eyed his long-time colleague and laughed. "Okay, so Houston is never that white bread. But I'm okay with thinking it is."

Grace leaned in and staged whispered, "So am I." Turning, she pulled on her jacket and walked out of the office.

Ethan watched her pass through the squad room for a moment then dropped back into his chair. He needed to gather the records he and Grace had compiled and forward them to the FBI. Though some pieces of information would need to be presented carefully so the FBI didn't focus on them unduly, it was a line he'd walked on occasion for a very long time. He wouldn't make any mistakes.

It took him another hour before he had the report to the FBI just the way he wanted. Pulling up his usual contact, he wrote a quick email, attached the copy of his report and sent it off. Yawning again, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Unlike Grace, he found the white-haired man far more interesting than the other two they'd identified at multiple scenes. Something about the man had caught his attention.

Suddenly his phone rang, startling him. Huffing out a sigh if exasperation, he picked it up. "'Lo?"

"Why are you still there?"

Ethan smile. "Hey Eli. Are you and Jane still over at the house?"

"Where you should have been an hour ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way."

"You find anything?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Me too. Can you get off on Sunday? I think we need to take a trip."

Ethan frowned. "You want to go to Pastor Jim's?" It had been years since Pastor Jim had owned the farm, but somehow he and Elijah always called Dean's farm Pastor Jim's.

"I think we need to get with the others, put all our cards on the table." Elijah sighed. "I feel like we're all in different corners pecking at this thing. While that was good two days ago, I think we need a face-to-face."

Ethan didn't respond immediately. The upheaval in the city had just stopped two days ago, and leaving now would feel like abandoning the helm. It had been a turbulent two weeks for his precinct. He didn't feel good about leaving.

"For a day?" Elijah asked, knowing what his brother was thinking.

"Maybe," Ethan sighed. "We just went through some of the toughest weeks in Houston history. I don't feel good about leaving right now."

"The violence is over, right?"

"It seems so," Ethan agreed. "But my team is unsettled. Besides, can you even get reservations this fast without them costing an arm and a leg?"

"I figured I'd ask Caleb to send the jetliner," Elijah said.

Ethan laughed. "You just want to ride on the Hawker 1000."

"Hey, Caleb bought that jetliner over nine months ago, and we still haven't been taken anywhere yet."

"You know, he thinks the only ones who know about the jet are Joshua and Onida," Ethan commented with a chuckle.

"He still thinks that? Everyone knows!" Elijah stated humorously.

"Time to shatter his illusions." Ethan scrubbed a hand over his chin, then said, "Fine. Have Caleb send the jet. I'll go for a day, then I need to be back."

"I'll call him tonight," Elijah said. "Come on home, enjoy a glass of wine with us, then get some rest."

"Will do," Ethan said, and hung up. He really did want to just get up and go home. But he needed to compile the information he and Grace had found into a cohesive report for the Brotherhood. His report to the FBI had been accurate, but carefully edited. Through his years on the force, he'd become an expert at creating reports while leaving out any hint of the supernatural. The report he'd forwarded tonight had been no different. Now, he needed to organized the information for the Brotherhood. It took a little less than half an hour, but he had their notes organized. Quickly he saved the information to a flash drive. Groaning softly, he pushed himself up out of his chair and snagged his jacket from the battered coat rack that had been in this office for the last thirty-five years. As he stepped from his office, he merely closed the door. He rarely locked his office, trusting his squad to make sure no unauthorized persons went inside.

Walking over to Lance Renault's desk, he said, "Take off, Detective. You've been here longer than I have. And take tomorrow. You need the downtime."

"But…"

"We're going to be doing paperwork for months to come," Ethan stated drolly. "But the violence is over, and we got time. Take tomorrow." Looking up, he said, "In fact, Johnson, Moore, Ramirez, Stackhouse, Flores and Hernandez, you all take tomorrow off. The rest of you take Monday." There was a smattering of tired _yays_ from across the squad. Looking back to Lance, he said, "I'll have the Lieutenant divide up the night shift. We all need some downtime." Looking around the squad room, he said, "You've all put in a lot of overtime over the last two weeks. I know it's been hard, we're all tired. Over the next month I'll work very hard to try and give each of you a couple days off together so you can rest, get some sun." There was more laughter as the mood in the room lightened and weariness was shaken off. "But right now I wanted to say you've all done an outstanding job, and I'm proud you, each and every one. Thank you for your hard work and sacrifice." There was a smattering of applause and cheers as Ethan headed for the door.

In the hallway he met up with Lieutenant Daniel Gutierrez. After filling him in on the time off and giving some of this shift shorter hours to get some rest, he walked out of the precinct, ready to turn his mind on finding the bastard that had started this whole thing.

* * *

The man who'd identified himself as Piruz walked into the plush lobby of Blessings on State, a Bed and Breakfast in Jacksonville, Illinois. Rather than the impersonal atmosphere of the places called hotels in this era, he liked the idea of spending the night in a home, even one that was now used for commercial purposes.

"Good evening, Sir," said the woman behind a very small counter in the foyer. "How many nights?"

"Two," Piruz said.

"Excellent." The woman bent over her machine and said, "Under what name are you registering?"

He liked the question. "Samuel Richards." As he'd begun to deal more with the people of this time, he'd discovered that they were suspicious of those who didn't have two names. Since he couldn't give his own full name, he would make use of others. Opening the wallet he'd taken from a man he'd met downtown, he handed her a small card, then watched with interest as she slid the plastic between two dark metal bars while the machine beside her clicked. It was a form of computer, he knew that.

He was familiar with the concept of computers. Over fourteen hundred years ago he'd been able to work briefly on a mechanism that catalogued theories on astronomy and mathematics that was used by Greek astronomers. It also tracked the four year cycles of the Olympic Games. He'd been thrilled and intrigued with the magnificence. Now he wanted to examine these modern, much smaller versions.

Taking his key, he went up to his room and opened the door to a comfortable suite with a large bed and elegant furniture. Placing his leather case on the bed, he slipped his hand into the front pocket and pulled out a thick wax stick. At the window, he wrote Ж. He repeated the placement around the room in the East, West and North corners. Once he'd finished the protections, he relaxed. Smiling, he walked the room touching fabrics and running his hand over highly polished furniture. This was a glorious era, his favorite thus far.

When a ring sounded, he turned to a devise with a blinking red light next to the bed. Curious, he stepped over and touched the piece that lay in a cradle of sorts. It jiggled. Picking up the slender devise with rounded ends, he heard a tinny voice. This was a communication devise, and he lifted it to his ear. He'd seen people talking into squares before, but they were much smaller than this large contraption. "Yes?"

"I apologize for the disturbance, Mr. Richards, but I neglected to ask if you would like some supper. Our kitchen will be closing soon, so if you would like something to eat, I need to put in the order."

"Yes, thank you," Piruz stated slowly.

"What would you like?"

Piruz had no idea what to order, so he said, "I reply on you."

"Oh, then I will order you a steak cooked medium well with potatoes and a side salad. All right?"

"My thanks," Piruz said, and he lowered the ear piece and placed it back in its holder. He wasn't sure exactly what potatoes were, but he knew meat was called steak, and he was a fan.

Going back to the bed, he opened the leather case and pulled out a large ancient parchment. He then removed a couple of clean shirts, undergarments and a newly pressed pair of slacks. Smiling, he lifted out the slacks, laid them out on the bed and ran his hand over the smooth cloth. The weaving and making of clothes in this generation really was incredible. He turned back to the case; beneath the garments lay several small, delicately carved wooden boxes surrounding a larger wooden box. Gently he pulled out the center box and examined it carefully. The spell surrounding the box was intact, strong, and binding. Placing it back into the case, he turned to the parchment.

When fully opened, a sprawling four foot by three foot parchment lay open on the bedspread. Waving a hand, palm down, over the parchment, another continent appeared in place of the Americas: Asia. He was familiar with Asia, having traveled there many times in eras past. With each wave of his hand, continent after continent flowed across the parchment until he was once again looking at The Americas. There were two of them; North America and South America, though he'd recently realized there were actually three, with North America split up between the United States and the country called Canada. He had decided to treat the United States and Canada as two different continents, mainly due to Merlin's Child being in the central portion on The Americas.

Merlin. When he'd met the great Merlin years ago, he knew he was in the presence of a unique person. Even in the days of Babel, even in the days of the greatest of magi, there were none as gifted in the Great Arts as Merlin. Well, save for himself. But then, he'd been a Master throughout ages. Merlin's plan to protect this world through his trio of fighters had been brilliant. He wished he'd thought of it. But then, Merlin was gone, wasn't he? And I, thought Piruz, remain. However, Merlin's memory was the impetus for his choosing to start his New World in the United States. And what a new world it would become.

Waving his hand once more over the parchment, a large black symbol appeared across the map; a circle with arrows reaching out in all directions from the center: Chaos. Yes, what a new world it would be.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Thanks to those who left a comment to say they were still reading. I was afraid I was boring everyone! I should also say that "The Chaos Tree" has been completely written and has 32 chapters. So have no fear; you will definitely get the end of this tale!_


	8. Chapter 8

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 8

.

The barbeque at the farm was full of laughter and games, especially since the puppies were the center of the children's attention. The Winchester dogs lurked around the edges of the yard, ready for a hearty meal yet staying out of all the activity surrounding the puppies.

When Dean and Sam had come to the farm as children, Pastor Jim had named his dogs after characters in his favorite novel, _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Dean had dearly loved Atticus Finch, Scout, Dill and later, Boo. When Ben, JT and James were growing up, they'd turned to Caleb's favorite book for name inspiration: _The Three Musketeers_. Years later after Dean's boys were grown and on their own, he hadn't known what to do when Juliet brought home a puppy that had been abandoned along the side of the road. After she had placed the puppy in his hands, he'd asked, "What this?"

"A puppy," Juliet replied, setting her medical bag down and shrugging out of her coat.

Dean had rolled his eyes. "I can see it's a puppy. Why is it here?"

"Because some stupid, ignorant bastard dumped that small pup on the side of the road," Juliet snapped, anger lacing her words. "He's only two weeks old. Two weeks! Imagine dumping a baby on the side of the road! People really are pigs."

Biting his lip to keep the smile from his face, Dean looked down into the dark, limpid eyes of the shivering pup and asked, "What are we going to name him?"

"Anything you want," Juliet had replied. Patting his cheek, she'd walked off leaving the mixed breed German Shepherd in his arms.

It had taken Dean four days before he'd come up with a name; Pony Boy. _The Outsiders_ had made an impression on him growing up. While he couldn't say he'd loved the novel, it had made a deep and lasting impact on his young mind. In the novel when Pony Boy's parents were killed, he'd grown up living with his older brothers who were members of the Greaser Gang. They were considered delinquents, the dregs of society, outsiders. And that's how Dean viewed his childhood; growing up he and Sammy were outsiders in a world full of normal. Pastor Jim's was the first place since his mother died that he'd found acceptance and a home. When he'd looked down at that small, furry face, Dean had wanted this puppy - a puppy that someone had tossed away like trash - to know he was loved and wanted. He wasn't an outsider. On the farm, he would have a safe place to live and plenty to eat. So, this first pup he'd ever named himself became Pony Boy. Soon after, Sodapop and Two-Bit joined Pony Boy in the Winchester home.

While the puppies were in the spotlight on this weekend, Dean walked to his dogs. They clustered around his legs, tails wagging enthusiastically as they enjoyed some attention from the human they loved the most.

"Shhh," Dean murmured, squatting down and getting nearly knocked over by the eager three. "Soon everything will be back to normal, and those two pups will have gone home." He scratched Pony Boy behind the ears, running comforting fingers through the Shepherd's thick fur. Sodapop shuffled in, and Dean chuffed the Retriever under his neck. Two-Bit, the small greyhound with a bandaged left paw sat down and leaned against Dean legs. "Hey, Bit," he murmured.

"Dean!" Juliet pointed to the backdoor and smiled.

Dean gave his dogs a last pat before heading over to the party.

Adam and his family had arrived soon after James and Doctor Baine, thus Maisie and Lucas joined Nicholas, Mac and Lisa Anne in playing with the newest canine additions. Dean loved hearing the laughter of children in his yard again. It had been a long time since JT and James were children, screaming and running around the backyard fighting imaginary monsters, defending the earth against aliens from faraway places or playing Cowboys and Indians. Today, that laughter filled his yard, and not merely from the children. James and Ryker had great fun calling for Max, then saying they meant Maxie. Ben even got into the game by asking if Max wanted a burger or a hot dog, then saying, _I meant Big Max, not the dog_. Soon, however, everyone moved on and gave Max a break, especially since he'd been a good sport about Nicholas naming the pup in his honor.

Joshua and Carolyn's daughter Josie had been unable to fly in for the barbeque, but Mary had managed to break away from her Internship for the weekend. She was sitting at the picnic table beside Sam, alternately talking with her father and watching the children playing on the grass.

"They're having fun, aren't they?"

Sam smiled, looking over to where Mac was chasing after the small beagle puppy. Chuckling, he said, "The puppies have sure livened up the day." Turning back to his daughter, he said, "I'm glad you were able to get here. The magazine didn't mind?"

Mary grinned. "They wanted me to research a piece on Francis Upritchard, but I'm not that in to papier mache sculptures." Shrugging, she admitted, "Guess I'm old fashioned, but I prefer my sculptures made from stone, marble or metal. So I said there was a family gathering I was expected to attend." She gave Sam a cheeky grin. "I didn't actually say it was an emergency, but whatever conclusions they come to is on them."

Sam shook his head. Resorting to subterfuge rather than telling the magazine the outright truth was either a James tactic or Dean; maybe Caleb. Certainly not him, JT or Joshua. Letting the _teachable_ _moment_ go, he took a sip from his coffee before asking, "Is the magazine going to let you do an article of your own?"

Eyeing her father, Mary confided, "I've been researching a piece on this newer artist. His medium is oil on wood, which I thought was unique. His painting style is an interesting mix of renaissance and modern brush techniques. I've been using whatever spare time I have between assignments and school to critique and examine his work. Once I get the article written, maybe NYArts Magazine will print it."

"I have no doubt whatsoever," Sam said with a smile.

Lunch was served at two, and the picnic tables were crowded with hungry family and friends. Dean made sure their three Chicago guests were seated at his table, so they could enjoy the warm hospitality of Juliet and Carolyn. Ben and his wife Maya sat near the children's table with Adam and Margaret to watch over the kids. Delicious burgers made their way around the tables, along with hot, foil-wrapped sweet corn, skillet-blistered green beans, potato salad, fire-browned tomatoes and cheddar biscuits. Of course, there were also hot dogs and mac-and-cheese for the children. Following the meal, Dean helped Juliet clear the outdoor tables, cover the food in cello wrap, placing them inside on the kitchen table for afternoon snacking.

In the backyard the younger men started a touch-football game and the ladies sat near the fans, talking and enjoying the breeze. The children alternately romped with the puppies, threw balls for the older dogs to chase, or played in a small pool about three feet high and six foot around under the watchful eye of Ben. Joshua, Sam and Brian stood watching the football match while Caleb attempted to referee and Mary bunched up some kitchen rags to use as cheer poms.

On the outdoor picnic tables Dean and Juliet placed apple pies, chocolate cupcakes, fresh watermelon slices and berry cobbler for those with a sweet tooth, all covered in cling wrap and waiting to be consumed. When Dean began a game of horseshoes, Caleb, Joshua, Brian, David and their Doctor friend Wilson Baine left the touch football players to their own score-keeping devises and came over to participate.

It was close to six before the football game subsided in laughter when no one could tell who won, the shapeshifter trio was victorious in the battle of horseshoes, and the desserts were demolished. Nicholas and Lucas were asleep under a tree in the yard, the puppies nestled in Nicholas' arms. Maisie and Lisa Anne were still playing with their dolls, while Mac lay on his stomach coloring in a large dinosaur coloring-book, Two-Bit nestled close to his side.

Juliet and Onida along with the rest of the ladies had earlier relocated inside away from the heat and the bugs. Relaxing in the living room, they enjoyed one another's company along with ice cold glasses of Pastor Jim's famous sweet tea, which Juliet had learned to make because Dean, Sam and Caleb loved it so much. It was a taste of their childhood, and something to be treasured.

David Lassiter walked over to where Dean was sitting near the fans. "We're going to get a room at the hotel."

"I already called the Sherwood Inn and booked your rooms," Dean said with a smile. "It's a small place, but clean and comfortable."

David smiled. "Thank you. When are we gathering tonight?"

"Seven-thirty," Dean answered.

David nodded. "We'll leave the spell pouches with the young man who brought us in earlier, and pick them up again tonight." He wanted Dean to understand that there was no ulterior motive for their coming to Dean's home, and the farm would be completely protected and safe once they were gone.

Dean smiled his thanks.

Nodding once, David signaled to Brian and Wilson and they headed inside to thank Juliet for a wonderful afternoon after waving to all whom they'd met that day.

"They're coming back?" Caleb watched as the three shapeshifters and Ryker walked through the house and out the front door.

Dean nodded. "Lassiter and Mayfare will be back. I don't think the doctor will come." Knowing his friend, he continued, "Ryker's escorting them now, and they'll hand over their spell pouches. Tonight, we'll repeat the process."

"Good. I'd still like to re-enforce our wards when they leave," Caleb commented. "Not that they weren't nice, but…"

Dean huffed out a laugh. "My thoughts exactly. I don't view David Lassiter as a threat, but," he shrugged, "why take chances?"

Adam came over and held out his hand. "It was a great afternoon; thanks for the invite." He looked over his shoulder to where Margaret was helping Maisie pick up her dolls and attempting to wake Lucas, who merely turned over and tried to go back to sleep on the soft grass. Chuckling, he shook his head. Over the last year since he'd moved to the suburbs of Louisville, he'd spent a considerable amount of time at Dean's home, especially when Ben came with his kids, or whenever Joshua was over with Nicholas. Adam had never had many friends. Moving here had given him those as well as a renewed sense of purpose and deep satisfaction. Turning back to Dean, he said, "I know those three men were shapeshifters."

Dean blinked. "Really?" Intrigued, he asked, "How?"

"Nothing spectacular," Adam said with a smile. "They just have a different … sense about them. If you need me for anything, just call."

"Thank you," Dean said, shaking the other man's hand again, gripping it a little firmer to convey his appreciation.

Adam nodded and went over to Margaret. Instead of trying to wake his sleeping son, he merely lifted Lucas up off the grass and into his arms.

Mary, Max and James helped carry the dessert dishes into the kitchen while Sam and Caleb put up the chairs, reset the picnic tables under the trees, and banked the barbeque.

Ben walked over to his father. "I heard about Caleb and Sam; are they all right? Do they need help?"

Dean frowned. "I don't know, maybe. Something happened to them when David Lassiter got here this morning. I'd like your input on what it was."

Ben looked over to where Sam and Caleb were stacking the chairs. "They look fine now."

"Onida healed them."

Concerned, Ben said, "They needed her healing touch? Wow. Okay, I'll give them the once over later."

"We're meeting at seven-thirty."

"Everyone, including the shapeshifters?" Ben had never heard of monsters being allowed inside the Tomb.

Knowing what Ben was thinking, Dean smiled. "We'll meet in the living room."

"I'll be there." Ben looked over at Maya, who was collecting Mac and Lisa Anne and their toys. "I'm glad we brought the camper, since it looks like you'll have a full house tonight. Unless you need me, we'll be off in the morning." He clapped his father on the shoulder and went to help with the children.

A moment later Mac came running across the lawn to launch himself full-tilt into Dean's arms. "Grandpa!"

Dean laughed. "That was dramatic," he remarked, grinning.

Mac hugged him hard with his little arms. Leaning back, he said, "Daddy said you needed a hug."

"He did, did he?" Dean said softly. "Well, you know what?" He leaned in close to Mac's ear and whispered, "He was right."

Mac giggled and hugged Dean again.

"You know who else needs a hug?"

"Grandma?" Mac asked.

"You got it, Champ." Dean set Mac down and watched him run into the house calling for his grandmother.

"So, we're having a meeting?" James asked, dropping into the chair near his father.

"Later," Dean said. "Looks like something's come up."

"Max and Ryker told me, some of it, anyway." Eyeing his father, he asked, "JT going to be there?"

"If Caleb has anything to say about it," Dean said with a smile. "I think he sent the Ames jet to Arizona to pick him up. I guess we'll see."

James jumped up and smiled. "Maybe this will be another hunt we can work together. I liked the last one." Grinning, he swung open the backdoor and walked inside.

Dean eyed the backyard a moment. "Yeah, so did I." Sighing, he pushed himself up from the chair, turned off the fans and went into the house.

* * *

Jody stared out the side window as she and Mark drove back to South Dakota. The pair of them hadn't found out anything concrete during their three days in Stillwater. They'd spent hours interviewing people in medical centers, churches, community centers and bars. Additional hours were spent with Donna combing through the police footage, and more time going through social media videos and pictures of the chaos; nothing.

Mark glanced over at Jody. Shifting his grip on wheel, he said, "You think what happened in Stillwater was something?"

Lost in the reverie of passing scenery, it took Jody a long moment before she eventually said, "Yeah. We didn't find anything, but something's wrong anyway."

Mark nodded to himself, keeping his eyes on the road.

Jody's brows rose. "You don't agree?"

"I'm…" Mark broke off, frowning. "I'm not sure."

Shifting in her seat so she was facing the younger man, Jody said, "Let me hear it."

Mark glanced over briefly, then sighed. "I agree that the violence was out of the ordinary, that the giving was off the charts. But … cities have been out of control before. Donna said that the fights stopped abruptly. But in small towns, fights often stop abruptly. People know who they're fighting and get ahold of themselves." He shook his head slightly. "I wasn't there in the moment when everything was happening, but nothing we heard or saw in looking around pointed to anything supernatural."

Jody faced front again and stared out the window. Sighing, she said, "Yeah, I know. All we can do is write up what we heard and saw, and send it on to Caleb."

"On the other hand," Mark added thoughtfully, "while we didn't find anything, Donna knows this town better than I do. If she says there's something weird going on, then I believe her."

"Yeah. She's too seasoned to get something like this wrong."

"We should include her observations in our report.

"I'll say something about it, but I think that's something Donna needs to send to Sam or Caleb herself."

"Didn't she already do that?"

"Her initial impressions, yes," Jody said. "But since we were there and we went over everything, she'll have more thoughts and opinions. She's the best person to put it out there."

Mark nodded. They drove in silence for several minutes before he asked, "We going to drop this?"

"Hell, no," Jody snorted. "We're going to pool our information with whatever Jackson and Steve have come up with. Then we'll check in with Sam, see what he's found out and what else is needed."

Mark grinned. "Good. I wasn't prepared to give up either."

Jody laughed. "Then we're on the same page, buddy-boy. While it may seem like nothing, _something's_ going on and we're gonna find out what."

* * *

It was almost seven, and Caleb, Ryker and James were sitting around the kitchen table, talking and snacking on the remains of their afternoon barbeque. Dean stood casually at the kitchen window, watching outside as Max tucked the puppies back in their cage and Joshua pushed Nicholas on the tire swing; the one Dean had hung years ago for JT and James. Nicholas loved the tire swing even more than the swings at the park. He could stand, hang onto the rope and swing so high. Every once in a while a giggle would erupt from his throat as the tire tilted. Joshua loved that sound, as did Dean.

"He's doing well," Caleb observed, coming up behind Dean.

"Yep," Dean said with a smile.

Caleb glanced at his friend. "Wondering if you should have taken in a child too?"

Dean huffed out a laugh as he turned and lean back against the sink. "Yes and no. I loved raising Ben, JT and Jimmy, and I can't say I wasn't tempted. Even Juliet was on board if a child needed a home. But once JT, Max and Jimmy become the Triad, they'll need our support, and hopefully our help. I just didn't want to shortchange a child of the attention of both parents."

"You wouldn't have shortchanged anyone," Caleb declared in defense of his best friend. "You started a business and became the Guardian, all the while raising three boys. You could have handled another child."

"Maybe," Dean mused. He glanced back over his shoulder to the happy child in the yard. "Before, I never thought I'd have all this; Juliet, kids, a home." Looking back at Caleb, his expressive eyes showing his best friend more than he probably intended. "I love being a dad."

Caleb nodded. He knew what Dean meant by _before_: he meant the tumultuous years when he and Sam's relationship had been strained, he meant the overwhelming turbulence of fighting the Apocalypse, he meant the horror of hell. But he had survived; they'd all survived. "It's not too late," he said softly. "Maska's mother is still fostering three kids who need forever homes."

Maska Etsitty was the Yakama doctor who led the team of medical professionals that helped all the children freed from the Owl Witches. The three children being fostered were two boys and a girl. Clarissa Sadler was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl of ten. She'd been in captivity by the Owl Witches for six years. Clarissa's family had initially been overjoyed she'd been found. However, soon it became apparent that the challenges of taking care of a traumatized child were more than they could handle. Since losing her, they'd had two additional children who were both under five. Trying to meet Clarissa's needs while tending to the needs of their other small children had become too much.

The other two children without homes were Tristan Myran, age ten; and Kaven Walsh, eight. It had taken awhile to discover that Kaven's family had migrated back to Ireland after he'd been taken. So far, efforts to track down his very young parents hadn't been successful. Tristan's family had moved to Tennessee after he'd been taken seven years before. His father had a history of assault in a sealed juvenile record, and it had been hell for him, his wife and their new baby to deal with the intense police scrutiny. The parents had since divorced, and Tristan's mother was remarried. Though Tristan's father had come to Washington to see him, he felt he hadn't the resources – either emotionally or monetarily – to deal with a traumatized child. What all three children needed was a lot of counseling, security and love.

Dean and Juliet had long talks about whether they should bring at least one of those children to the farm. Joshua already had tutors and counselors helping Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas, and all the children could study together. The new additions could go back to Washington every month with the other children when they visited. Juliet had said she was more than willing to help, but Dean was concerned about taking care of traumatized children, and whether he would be up for the challenge.

Dean looked at Caleb. "Have you thought about it?"

Caleb leaned back against the sink beside Dean. "Yes," he admitted. "But I don't know that I'm the right choice for these kids. Me and Onida … we're still trying to find our way. We were both alone for so long, her more so than me. Bringing in a couple of kids…" he shook his head.

Dean frowned. "If you want to, man…"

Caleb pushed off the sink. "Let's just say the topic is still on the table. You shouldn't close the door either. These kids … they need a home. Somewhere they know is open to them no matter what. I think you'd love it and those kids would love the farm."

Before Dean could reply, Sam walked over. "Are we going to get this show on the road?"

"Yeah," Dean said, glad to step away from a topic that had been on his mind. "Let's set up in the living room."

"Not the Tomb?" Ryker asked, rising from the table and putting his plate in the sink.

"The Tomb is for hunters," Caleb stated, moving around the table. Giving the younger man a shove in the direction of said hunter's cave. "We'll get started bringing everything out."

"How much do you want to cover?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. We don't have a lot other than violence that starts and ends abruptly. They have the box, so right now they have more than we do." Eyeing Sam, Dean asked, "Could you tell what the top of the box said?"

"No. We didn't study it too much. Brian was mainly explaining the languages he'd identified so far. He's only been working on it since yesterday. He did say the box said _don't open_."

"And Lassiter opened it."

Sam nodded. "David figured the man in the bar had opened the box there, and that's what started the violence. Since that had no physical consequences other than Brian hitting him, he felt it was worth the risk."

Dean eyed his brother. "Are you feeling all right? What happened this afternoon?"

"I'm fine. As to what happened, I'm not sure," Sam confessed. "I noticed my head aching a little, but just before they knocked on the door it felt like it exploded. I didn't know where I was."

Dean frowned. "Explain."

"Probably felt like he was dimension hopping," Caleb stated as he re-entered the kitchen.

Confused, Dean uttered, "What?"

Dropping into a chair, Caleb absently picked up a chip and tossed it in his mouth. "It felt like…" he swallowed, "like I was here and wasn't here. I couldn't focus on anything because I couldn't get a grasp on where I was."

"Like when we ride the Gravitron at the fair," Sam said. "When you get off, you can barely stand, and you can't tell left from right or where you're at."

"Is that how it felt for you?" Caleb asked, perplexed.

"Sort of."

"What about you?" Dean asked.

Caleb was silent a moment, then said, "As I said, it felt like I was here but not here. Right now," he slapped his palms lightly on the table, "I'm here. Then, it felt like I was being pulled somewhere else."

Sam stared at Caleb. He sort of understood what Caleb was saying, but he didn't know if his experience had been the same. Basically, it had felt chaotic. "Well," he said, "it looked like whatever was in the box was pulling apart David's cells."

"Maybe Onida is the best one to ask about what happened," Dean suggested. "She countered the effect."

Caleb nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

Dean pushed himself off the sink. "Let's get the computers into the living room and finish getting set up. Lassiter and Mayfare should be here soon."

The back door opened and Nicholas raced inside and straight over to Dean, who grinned and lifted the child into his arms. Joshua followed, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Dean smiled at Nicholas. "Did you have fun?"

Nicholas nodded and murmured, "Mac."

"It was good to see Mac again, wasn't it?" Dean asked.

Nicholas grinned. "Yeah."

"Did he enjoy the puppies?"

The boy nodded again. "He liked them."

"I'll bet he did," Dean said, smiling.

"This little guy," Joshua tickled Nicholas' side and smiled at the answering giggle, "is having a sleep over with Mac in Ben's trailer. Are you fine with the puppies staying the night?"

Dean smiled. "Of course. Are you staying too?"

Joshua lowered Nicholas to the ground and said, "Go find Mommy," and smiled as the boy trotted through the kitchen into the living room. "We will if you don't mind. This will be the first time Nicholas will spend the night away from us. I'd like to be close."

"We have room. Sam's heading home to meet up with Mary, so you and Carolyn can have the guest room. That way you'll be down here if you're needed."

"Your boys?"

"You know Ben's got the camper. JT and Jimmy will sleep in their old room."

The back door pushed open as Max came inside, carefully maneuvering the puppy cage. "Where are these guys going?"

"Over there," Dean said, pointing to the corner of the kitchen. "I'll keep an eye on them tonight while Nicholas sleeps in the camper."

Max nodded and placed the cage in the far corner of the kitchen, right where Atticus Finch used to sleep.

Juliet walked around Max and entered the kitchen. "Hey," she gave Dean a kiss on the cheek. "Carolyn and I are heading over to Onida's while you boys to your thing."

"Maya going with you?" Dean asked.

Juliet shook her head. "Since Lisa Anne and Mac are both napping, she's going to take some personal time while Ben is in here with you."

"We should be done in a couple of hours," Dean said, leaning in for a kiss.

"I won't hold my breath," Juliet murmured, grinning through her kiss. Stepping back, she reached around for her purse and gave Dean a jaunty wave before heading out.

An affectionate _mom_ sounded from the front door, and Dean grinned. It looked like Caleb had been successful in getting JT back to Kentucky from Arizona. He followed the laughter and saw Juliet wrapped in the long arms of her son.

JT waved to Dean over Juliet's shoulder before stepping back. "Where are you going?" he asked, eyeing the purse slung over his mom's shoulder.

"Over to Onida's while you boys work," Juliet said. "You're staying the night?"

JT nodded. "I'm taking an early morning flight to New York Monday morning with James and Max, then head back to North Carolina on Wednesday."

"Good," Juliet said. "Then we have time to talk, and for you to give me a sneak peek at your upcoming editorial."

JT laughed. Over his father's shoulder he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. "Mary!"

Mary walked around her uncle and gave JT a hug. "You missed all the fun today," she said, grinning.

"Where are you going? I just got here!"

"Aunt Juliet is dropping me off at home so I can do some work," Mary said. "Maybe I'll come back over with dad tomorrow."

"You better," JT muttered. It had been far too long since he'd last seen his cousin.

Juliet and Mary walked out the front door to meet up with Carolyn and Onida, the latter of whom was giving Caleb an enthusiastic good bye.

"All right, you two," Juliet said in passing. "Put a cork in it and get in the car."

Onida chuckled and moved past the pair to climb into the back seat. Carolyn was already by the vehicle, giving Nicholas a warm hug. Mary got in beside Onida and leaned out the window to exchange a few words with Sam before the he stepped back to where the others were waiting to wave off the car. After Carolyn slid into the front, Juliet started the engine and soon the car was disappearing down the long driveway.

Nicholas watched the car move away, his expression forlorn.

Joshua hurried over and lifted Nicholas into his arms. "Mommy will be back soon, all right? Come on," he said, walking into the house and to the guest bedroom. "We're going to sleep right here while you stay with Mac in the camper. Does that sound like fun?"

Nicholas looked up at Joshua with wide eyes. He bit his lip a second, then nodded slowly.

His son looked apprehensive, and Joshua wondered if it was too soon for Nicholas to sleep away from him and Carolyn. Maybe the plan needed a little revising. Heading back to the living room, he saw Sam reattaching photos to the white board, and James flipping open TV trays. Ryker followed behind the younger man, setting down the laptops on the tray tops. Once the meeting had clear up, maybe Nicholas and Mac could have their sleep over in a different place. Smiling, Joshua said, "What about you and Mac stay in here tonight? You can sleep on the floor with blankets and pillows, and then you can keep an eye on the puppies."

Nicholas looked relieved and nodded. "Yeah," he murmured.

Joshua gave the young boy a hug and agreed, "I think that sounds like a lot of fun." Setting Nicholas down, he said, "Why don't you check on the puppies, make sure they have water. I'll tell Ben our new plans, all right?"

Nicholas nodded and hurried into the kitchen.

"Something?" Dean asked, his eyes on his new godson.

"I don't know if he understood the idea of a sleepover with Mac, understood that Carolyn and I wouldn't be there." Joshua shook his head. "So many concepts you and I take for granted are foreign to him. I thought a sleepover would be an exciting adventure, but I need to remember to think these things through, go slowly, make sure he understands."

"You can't anticipate every single thing he won't understand, and you can't sidetrack every incident that might upset him," Dean said gently. "Otherwise you'll end up cheating him of so many experiences. Kids are resilient, and Nicholas is a prime example. Just make your plans, and be ready to adjust when needed."

Joshua smiled. "Is that what you always did?"

"I learned it quickly," Dean chuckled.

"Well, I'm rearranging this event. The plan was for Mac and Nicholas to sleep in the camper. But I think Nicholas will feel more secure if he sleeps in the living room with Mac and the puppies. Carolyn and I will be nearby, and if Nicholas wants to sleep with us, Mac can come too, or I'll take him back to the camper."

"Sounds like a plan. When we're done in here, we'll even make the best fort so they'll feel safe."

Joshua smiled. Of course Dean would come up with something creative to help Nicholas feel safe. "I like that plan."

"Right now, I'm heading into the kitchen to make sandwiches."

"I'll help," Joshua said, following.

.

Sam finished setting up the white board with the pictures of the car, but left their data on the cities where the out of control violence occurred in the Tomb. There was collaborating, and then there was collaborating with the enemy … sort of. While David Lassiter had never been a problem for the Brotherhood, and he kept the lid on monsters in Chicago, he was still a shapeshifter and they were hunters. There was an invisible line in the sand, and both stayed on their own sides.

Stepping back into the Tomb, he gave it the once-over before heading back to the living room. The board looked fairly pathetic. But the truth was, they really didn't have a whole lot of concrete data to work with on this case. Mainly they had suspicions and the shadowy image of a matte black car.

"Anything else to bring out?" Ryker asked.

"No, we're set." Sam dropped onto the couch and lifted the lid on a wooden box made of cocobolo wood. Inside was the small box David Lassiter and Brian Mayfare had brought over.

"You have any idea what that is?"

Sam shook his head. "No. The symbols are interesting." Looking up, he asked, "Where are JT, James and Max?"

"Outside. Max is bringing JT up to date on what we know so far."

"And you're not out there because…" Sam asked lightly.

Ryker shrugged. "I've already heard how little we have three times." He gave Sam one of his wry smiles. "Didn't really need to go over it again."

"Can't blame you for that." Sam's eyes went back to the box.

"What does it say?"

"Brian has only been able to make partial translations of the lines. But according to him, a one line says _hidden_, another _beware of chaos, _and the last says not to open the box."

"Cryptic." Ryker leaned in to look at the markings. "A couple of these are cuneiform."

Sam looked up. "You know ancient languages?"

"No, but in studying ancient weapons I've had some exposure. Not enough to help with this," Ryker pointed to the box, "but enough to recognize the symbols."

Joshua walked in and dropped into a chair across from the couch.

"You want to check this out?" Sam asked.

Joshua shook his head. "No. After the briefing I'll take a rubbing, see if any of the symbols connect to magic in some way."

As the Scholar of the Brotherhood, Sam's mind went to the language origins place first before anything else. But Joshua had more knowledge of magic. "You think some of these symbols might have a magical origin?"

"I'd put money on it."

Caleb entered the living room with a plate of sandwiches covered in cello wrap. Placing them on the coffee table, he looked up at Ryker and stated, "We need more chairs."

Ryker's brows went up. Standing, he said drolly, "Why don't I help with that."

"Good idea." Caleb smirked at Joshua before following Ryker out of the living room to help.

Sam laughed and shook his head. A moment later, the front door opened and Ben came inside with his son Mac. "Nicholas?" Ben asked.

"In the kitchen," Joshua said.

Ben nodded and headed that way. Mac immediately darted off to the corner where Nicholas was sitting, feeding the puppies scraps of chicken.

"Hey dad," Ben said, dropping into a chair at the table. "Need some help with that?"

Dean was cutting chicken meat off the breast bone to make sandwiches. "No, I'm almost done."

Watching Dean prepare food was a relaxing activity; one Ben had loved when he was growing up. He would sit at the table, talking with his father about anything under the sun. It was something he looked forward to doing with his own son someday. Eyes on Dean's hands, he asked, "What happened to Uncle Caleb and Uncle Sam?"

"Truth? I don't know; I don't think they know," Dean said softly.

Ben nodded.

"I'd like you to listen to what Lassiter and Mayfare have to say about their experience with the box, then talk to Onida. She's the energy specialist, and she healed them all." Dean put down his knife and sat down opposite his son. "I hope she can give you some details on what she did for Sam and Caleb, even Lassiter. Then I'd like your medical opinion on what happened to them."

Ben felt overwhelmed. "I … What if I can't say? What if I don't know?"

"Then you don't," Dean said with a reassuring smile. "But I'm not looking for how it happened or what made it happen. I'm looking for a medical hypothesis, like their cells broke down and went on a holiday, something like that."

Ben suppressed a laugh, but grinned just the same. "Their cells went on holiday?"

Dean gave his son a mock scowl and rose, pulling more bread from the cupboard. "You know what I mean."

Ben let the laugh out and stood. "Yeah, I do, and I'll be as medical as possible."

"That's all I ask," Dean said.

"Grandpa!" Mac called, running around the table followed by Nicholas. "Can we have some chicken?"

"Of course," Dean said, pulling out a chair for Mac, then one for Nicholas. "You boys want potato salad too?"

"Yeah!"

Nicholas smiled and nodded.

Dean rubbed a hand lightly over each boy's head and went to fix their plates as the back door opened and JT, James and Max walked in.

Mac slipped out of his chair and ran to JT. "Up, up!"

JT laughed and picked up his nephew. "How are you, Macaroni?" tickling the boy's tummy.

Mac hunched up, giggling. "I'm Mac, not macaroni."

"Really?" JT sniffed at the boy's ear. "You smell like macaroni. Don't I get a hug?"

Mac threw his arms around JT's neck and gave his uncle a fierce hug before JT placed him back on the ground. Then the young man walked over to Nicholas. Crouching down beside the boy's chair, he smiled and asked, "How are you doing, god-brother?"

Nicholas frowned, not knowing what that meant.

JT smiled and pointed to Joshua. "Father," he then pointed to his own dad, "my father and your godfather." He pointed to Nicholas, "my god-brother." Because JT looked so much like his father, he was the first one other than Joshua and Dean with whom Nicholas had bonded, and he still felt that special connection.

Nicholas looked at Mac and Dean, then over to Joshua, who was smiling.

JT didn't know if Nicholas understood the complex relationships, but when the boy turned back to him and threw his slender arms around his neck, JT figured he understood enough. "I love you, Nicholas," he whispered in the boy's ear.

"Back," Nicholas whispered, and hugged tighter.

Mac wanted in on the action and leaned in, throwing his arms around both Nicholas and JT. He didn't understand about godfathers and god-brothers, but he wanted his best friend to feel loved.

"All right, boys," Dean said, breaking up the chick-flick moment by putting plates containing chicken, a small scoop of potato salad and a chocolate cupcake down in front of the boys. "Dig in."

The boys giggled as they both went for the cupcakes.

"You never let us do that," James griped to Dean, pulling up a chair. Grabbing a plate, he began filling it with leftovers, including a cupcake.

"If I remember, there was cake for breakfast a time or two," Dean said mildly.

The front door opened a couple minutes later, and Dean heard Ryker and David Lassiter's voices. He walked out of the kitchen, held out a hand and shook the shapeshifter's. "Thanks for coming. I've got sandwiches in the living room, and the salads, desserts and tea or coffee are on the kitchen table with the plates. Get yourselves some food before we get started."

There was a general scrambling and shuffling as everyone got food and drink and returned to the living room. Joshua stayed in the kitchen with Nicholas and Mac as they ate their dinner. Ben needed to be in the living room, since Dean wanted to go over the box first. When the boys finished eating, he would take them over to Ben's camper until the meeting was over.

Dean looked around the crowded living room. Ben, Sam, Ryker and Max were sitting on the couch. Caleb stood nearby, leaning against the wall. James and JT were slouching in a couple chairs brought in from the kitchen. David Lassiter and Brian Mayfare were seated in the cushioned chairs fronting the fireplace. David was staring up at the pictures on the white board, his eyes narrowed on the images of the black car.

Sam rose and walked over to the whiteboard. Eyeing David Lassiter, he asked, "You've seen this car before?"

David's eyes darted to Sam, then went back to the board. "Yeah, it's the car from Crossings."

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked, standing straight. He pointed to the images. "Those are some pretty blurry and shadowy photos."

"It's the lines of the car," David said, unconsciously echoing Ryker's observations, "the curve of the bumper, the angle of the hood, the headlights…"

"Yeah, yeah," Caleb interrupted, "Ryker said the same thing."

David nodded vaguely and stared back at the photo. "There are a lot of pictures of this car. Where are they from?"

No one answered, leaving it up to Dean to decide how much information was shared and what was kept back.

"There have been pockets of violence in a couple of cities. Those," Dean pointed to the pictures, "are taken from social media records of those cities."

David just nodded before sitting back and giving Dean his full attention.

Dean gave David and Brian, as well as James, Max and JT, an overview of what they knew. "Apparently what's different about this type of violence, is that it seems to start out of nowhere, and end abruptly."

Brian nodded. "That's what happened to me. One minute I'm sipping a beer and talking to David, the next I haul off and punch him." He gave David an embarrassed look. "I don't know where it came from."

David started to speak, to reassure his friend again, but Sam beat him to the punch. "Did you feel anything when you punched David, either right before or after?"

David gave Sam a small nod. He hadn't really thought to ask that, being more preoccupied with the finding of the box. It felt good to have someone ask the clinical questions.

"I … uh, don't know," Brian said slowly, frowning. "One minute I'm talking, then the next I'm punching."

"Okay, but think back," Sam urged, leaning forward slightly. "Think about right before you punched David; did your vision get hazy? Did you feel dizzy? Did your stomach churn, or did you feel hot?"

Brian's eyes widened and he nodded slowly. "Oh, um…" he closed his eyes and tried to remember the event.

"There was music, right?" Ben asked.

Brian nodded.

Ben lifted his cell, and after a moment put on a classic bar compilation. "Okay, keep your eyes closed and describe the rest."

Brian frowned. "I was drinking a beer. The lights were dim and we were leaning against the bar." A second later someone dimmed the lights in the living room. He could hear the music pulsing and if he tried, he could imagine the bar.

Joshua, who had been standing in the doorway since Maya took the boys back to the camper, went into the kitchen and poured a cold brew. He knew Ben was helping Brian recall the events of that night by recreating the circumstances; the music, the lowered lights. Bringing the glass in, he placed it gently in Brian's hand before stepping back.

Max vacated his seat on the couch for his father, and settled himself on the floor near Joshua's legs. A warm hand squeezed his shoulder as everyone watched Ben and Brian.

"What were you talking about?" Ben asked David softly.

"Uh, we were talking about the ancient languages conference we'd just attended."

Ben nodded. Turning to David, he motioned for him to converse with Brian like he had that night.

"I don't remember what we were saying, exactly," David hissed.

"Doesn't matter," Ben stated. "Just begin talking, about the conference, people you saw…"

"George," Brian supplied.

David nodded. "Yeah, that George," he said, his eyes going to his long-time friend. "We see him at every single conference, and he never sits still."

Brian smiled, his eyes still closed. Slowly he lifted the cold glass of beer to his lips and sipped. "As long as he isn't bragging about his latest paper on ancient Chinese glyphs, I'm good with the fidgeting."

"It's distracting," David continued, getting into the rhythm. "How are we supposed to concentrate on the lecture when he's bobbing and swaying in his seat?"

"You don't listen to the lectures anyway," Brian teased.

"I do!" David protested, replaying this obviously well worn subject. "Our people have a long history with many ancient cultures. Knowing how to read old documents is important."

This was interesting news for Dean, Caleb and Sam, who all exchanged looks of interest.

David saw the exchange and rolled his eyes with a smirk. Turning back to Brian, he said, "I want exposure. Maybe someday I'll learn to read them all myself." When Brian didn't give his patented snort of disbelief, he leaned in closer. "But rest assured, your job isn't in jeopardy."

The glass of beer slipped from Brian's hand. Suddenly his face twisted slightly and it was only by Ryker's quick intervention that David didn't get punched in the face again.

Brian opened his eyes and stared up at Ryker, who was holding his arm, then his eyes widened. Jerking his gaze to his friend, he moaned, "David, I'm so…"

"Shut up and tell us what happened," David urged kindly.

Settling himself, Brian swallowed hard. "It's hard to describe. It happened so fast." He closed his eyes again. "It felt like a flush of heat ran through my body."

"Like a shiver?" Ben asked.

Brian shook his head. "More like when you get embarrassed, and heat rushes from your stomach right up through to your head. I think my mind went blank and all I felt was anger. I didn't see David, I didn't see anything, but the anger had to go somewhere. I needed to get it out; I couldn't have been still if I'd wanted to. But I didn't want to."

"What were you thinking?" Ben asked.

"Thinking?" Brian echoed. "I wasn't thinking anything." Shaking his head, he continued, "It's hard to describe, but it was like animal instinct. All I felt was aggression." Opening his eyes, he gave both David and Ben an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful."

David nodded as Ben said, "You gave us what you could, what you felt. A rush of aggression can cause disorientation, even memory problems."

"What are other symptoms of aggression?" Sam asked.

"Well, there are a lot, some lighter, like confusion, social withdrawal, disorientation; some more severe like hallucinations, delusions, threatening behavior, and delirium."

Caleb stared at David. "Did you see the man in the club open the box?"

David shook his head. "No, but he must have, right?"

"We don't know that," James interjected. "All we know is that you felt power, and Brian hauled off and punched you."

David sighed. "You're right."

Dean looked at Ben and nodded.

"What happened when you opened the box?" Ben asked.

A small crease marred David's brow as he thought back to the moment he'd opened the box. It was such a cacophony of sensory input, it was difficult to focus on much less describe. "At first… It was like color and energy and … and space was fluid and got dumped over my head."

"Space?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah. I didn't feel grounded here."

"He lost consciousness for a moment," Brian interjected.

David stared at his friend. "I did? You never mentioned that before."

"You were out for only a few seconds. When you opened your eyes, they wouldn't focus; you were disoriented. I called Wilson, but you insisted we come here. Then we were on the road. I guess I forgot about it in all the activity."

David nodded. "It's hard to describe, but it was like explosions of color and space, like I wasn't here."

Caleb nodded. "That's what I felt."

Dean looked at his brother. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I didn't feel that, not like I wasn't grounded here." He frowned. "It was more like there was brightness all around, blinding and intense. My head hurt and I couldn't see anything."

Caleb watched the younger man, his expression intense.

"Anything else?" Ben asked David. "You couldn't hold your form. Can you tell me about that?"

"Just that it felt like my body was being ripped apart. I'm not a medical doctor, so I don't know exactly what was happening."

"What happens when you shift?"

"Doctor Baine would be more helpful in that arena," David said, smiling. "Guess I shouldn't have let him have the night off."

"Basically, our cells are more elliptical and porous," Brian said, "so they can shift and reform depending on our will. Most shapeshifters use this ability to appear younger than they are. Our life spans are longer, so we age for awhile, then become younger again.

"Neat trick to have," Max stated.

"Neat, maybe, but not easy," David said quietly. "It's not easy to pick up everything and start over again. We become attached to people we know, just like humans. It's hard to keep letting people go."

No one spoke for a moment before Ben said, "It sounds like your body experienced a massive influx of energy, energy it couldn't handle. It played havoc with your bodily functions. For Sam and Caleb, it shattered their equilibrium. For you, it did more; it upended your very cell structure."

"What could cause that?" Ryker asked.

Ben shook his head. "I don't know. Electrocution, radiation, poison, many things can disrupt bodily functions. I need to hear what Onida says."

"Should this box be in the house?" JT asked. "Right now it's inside a box of cocobolo wood, but if Uncle Sam takes it out to examine it…"

"The box itself is cocobolo wood," Bryan said. "There's no need for it to be inside another cocobolo wood box."

"It's cocobolo wood?" Sam asked, surprised. Pulling the smaller box out of the larger, he studied it closely. "You sure? It doesn't look like cocobolo wood."

"We can sense cocobolo wood, among other things," Bryan said with a smile. "It's old, so it's probably been treated with period oils, and age would have changed the coloring and softened the grain, but its cocobolo wood. You're totally safe as long as you don't open it."

Sam set the box down. "Good to know."

David shifted his focus to Dean and asked a question that had been on his mind. "Do you think Chicago is in danger from this man?"

"Truthfully? I don't know. We just don't know enough about any of this."

David nodded slowly. Rising, he looked over at Brian. "We need to get back. If the man was in Mount Vernon, it's possible he was headed in our direction. We need to secure the city, put more protections in place around the clubs, put people on alert for that car."

"You have protections on the clubs in Chicago?" Max asked.

"Of course he does," Caleb said, a small smile on his face. "It's his city."

"It is," David affirmed, "and I intend to keep it safe."

"How can you monitor a city that large for one black car?" Sam asked.

"We have a pipeline to all the traffic cameras. While it doesn't cover every angle, it covers all the highways, interstates and major rural routes. I'm guessing someone with that car isn't driving on dirt roads. Plus, in a city with such an extensive subway system, many Chicago residents don't even own cars."

Brian rose. "You want to leave tonight?"

David shook his head. "No. We're all tired. I'll get the ball rolling from here, and we'll head out early in the morning." Turning to Dean, he said, "Thank you, for today, for sharing your family with us. I'll let you know if I see or hear anything about this. And," he looked down, "take care of the box."

"What are you going to do with it?" Brian asked.

"We'll finish studying the inscriptions," Sam answered. "If you find out anything else, I would greatly appreciate the input. After that, I'll return it to the larger cocobolo wood box and locked in the Brotherhood safe."

"Good," David said, moving in the direction of the door. "It needs to be out of circulation."

.

After David and Brian were escorted off the property to head for the hotel, Dean stood in the living room studying the white board.

Sam came into the room, bringing with him the data on the cities. Ryker stepped back from rearranging the pictures and Sam started writing the information up on the board.

"Do you think the man in the car was heading for Chicago?" James asked as he surveyed the data Sam was writing.

"There's no way to know," Sam stated. "It's possible, if they went from Houston to Mount Vernon. But there isn't any concrete data on that."

James opened the laptop near him and started typing. "So we have violence in Kennebunkport, then in Baltimore, which is almost eight hours south. After Baltimore, the violence appears in Ashland, Wisconsin; that's an eighteen hour drive west."

JT was nodding and clicking on the keyboard of his laptop. "After Ashland there's violence in Stillwater. Now that's only three hours away." Looking up, he said, "Think our boy got tired?"

"Don't know," James said, "But from Stillwater Minnesota to Rockland Idaho is another hefty driving schedule; nineteen hours and some change."

"It's like this person or persons if going in a circle around the country," Joshua observed.

"Looks like," JT said. "Cause he goes from Rockland down to Anaheim. That's a thirteen hour stretch…"

"And Anaheim to Houston is the longest drive; twenty-three hours." James looked up at the whiteboards again.

"And we think this same person was in Mount Vernon…" Sam said.

"Twelve hours," James supplied.

"So this guys gets around," Max said.

"He's definitely circling the country," Joshua stated again, his eyes on the whiteboard.

Everyone looked at the board, then over at Joshua. Sam hurried into the Tomb and returned a couple minutes later with an old paper map of the United States. Hurriedly he unfolded it and taped it up on the board. Grabbing a black marker, he circled Kennebunkport Maine, then drew a line down to Baltimore Maryland.

"Ashland Wisconsin," James supplied, then, "Stillwater Minnesota."

Sam circled those and continued on through Rockland, Anaheim and Houston, then drew a line up to Mount Vernon, Illinois. "This," he pointed to Mount Vernon, "is out of the way. If he's circling the country, he would need to go through the South, like maybe to Florida or South Carolina. Why did he go there?"

"There was no big violence in Mount Vernon, aside from the brawl at the club," Caleb pointed out.

Max eyed the map. "The violence, the out of character behavior, the sudden stop when he's finished with a place, moving in a circle around the country…"

"He plans on working some sort of spell," Joshua stated.

"Can you tell what?" Caleb asked, knowing it was a long shot.

"No," Joshua stated. "A circle is too vague. It could be one of a hundred spells."

Sam's eyes went to the small box sitting on the coffee table. "We need to know what the box says."

James nodded, studying the small wood lid. "The research team can help with some of these symbols."

Dean looked at the board, then around at Joshua. "You think the guy circling the country could be the beginnings of a spell."

"Considering we don't know much, I'd still hazard a guess and say yes," Joshua said slowly. "You've got outbreaks of unnatural violence within cities of states that border the country. The only question I have is why suddenly turn and go up through the center before finishing your circuit?"

"Us?" Dean asked.

That got everyone's attention.

Dean shrugged. "If I was the big bad planning a gigantic spell, I'd want to see who might be around to stop it."

"How would this guy know about New Haven Kentucky?" Max asked.

"Yeah," James said, frowning. "It's not like New Haven is a bustling metropolis."

"Despite our being the bane of supernatural kind," Caleb stated, "not many people know about the farm, or that we're near Louisville. Even most covens think we're located in New York."

"But not all," Joshua said.

"No," Caleb admitted, "not all."

There was an uncomfortable quiet before Dean asked Joshua, "How do you think he plans on closing the circle?"

Joshua looked startled. "We don't know that it's a spell yet."

"I trust your gut," Dean said.

Joshua sighed. "Not knowing what kind of spell this is, the only thing I can say for sure is that he would have to close it with blood or a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice…" Caleb said.

"For something this big, I would say a sacrifice or multiple sacrifices would be necessary."

"A sacrifice like blood violence in cities across the country?" Ryker suggested.

Somehow the situation, which had been serious before, took on a more deadly cast.

"Could he harness that blood and violence in a spell?" Max asked. "One he could use later as the sacrifice?"

"Now hold on," Joshua stated. "This is all speculative, and without some corroborating facts, we don't want to pigeon hole our research or our impressions onto one path. Let's keep to what we know, and that is that it looks like this man is circling the country with the probable intent of working a spell."

After a moment of silence, Ryker said, "Since it's fairly likely a spell of some kind is being worked, this man would need something to anchor the spell in the different cities."

Joshua nodded in his direction. "Possibly."

"You mean like a talisman of some kind," Sam said.

"Probable."

"Like a box?" Dean asked, pointing to the small box of the table.

Everyone looked from the box to Joshua, who threw up his hands. "I don't know! This is all pure speculation, and…"

"We know it's speculation, Josh," Caleb interrupted. "But we've got close to two hundred years of hunting experience right here in this room. I trust your gut."

"All right," Joshua said with a sigh. "Speculatively speaking, I don't know that a box or boxes would have been left as talismans. The only city in which a box was found was Mount Vernon, and wholesale violence did not happen there. Unless we find boxes in cities where violence _did_ happen, the talisman remains anonymous."

"Could you track a magical talisman?" Dean asked.

"Considering I have no idea what spell is being done and no idea if a talisman even exists, at this time I would say no," Joshua stated firmly. Gut and speculation couldn't be turned into absolutes.

No one spoke as they took in the whiteboards, the pictures, or looked at the box. Finally Dean said, "All right. Let's get all this back in the Tomb. We've got more work to do." Looking to Sam, he asked, "How far are we in mining the social media sites for information?"

"We still have work to do on Anaheim," Sam said. "It's a huge city and there are millions of video clips and pictures to go through. Ethan and Elijah are still working on Houston. We should be hearing from Jody soon. And I'll send an email to Alison, see how far she and her team have gotten with the rest of the cities."

"And we haven't heard from our law enforcement contacts either," Caleb said. "But it's only been a day. I say we keep plugging away at Anaheim, and check in with our police contacts on Monday."

Dean nodded. Looking at the future Triad, he said, "I think we're fine to lay the groundwork on this one."

There was a moment of stunned silence before a clamor of voices erupted as each of the young men started to protest.

Dean held up a hand for silence. "JT, you've got an editorial to finish; James, you've got school and your internship. Max, your restaurant needs your attention, and Ryker, don't you have classes to teach at Bluegrass Challenge Academy?"

"We have time for this," JT stated, his face stern. "If this guy is working a spell that encircles the entire country, that's something we should be involved in."

"Hold on," Joshua protested once again. "I said it _could_ be a spell, not that it is."

"Your _could be_ is as good as is," Max stated, anger at being sidelined on his face. His dad wasn't a man to jump the gun unless he was pretty darn sure of a target.

"We don't know what the box is, we haven't even finished the most basic of legwork," Sam began.

"We haven't got anything except a shadowy car and violence in select cities," Dean declared. "We have a lot of ground to cover. You're help is welcome tomorrow, but you each have places to be on Monday. We have a research arm of the Brotherhood for a reason, and they'll keep on this as will we. When we find something, we'll let you know."

James and Max looked mutinous while Ryker looked skeptical. JT merely stared at his father, his emotions plain on his face.

"I can help find out which spell is being used," Ryker argued.

"That's up to Joshua," Dean stated. He eyed each of the young men before sighing. "I promise we'll bring everyone in if it's called for. But right now, we got virtually nothing." When none of their expressions changed, he conceded, "We'll see where we stand tomorrow night."

JT finally broke the silence by saying, "All right, tomorrow night."

At that, everyone started cleaning up the living room and taking leftover food to the kitchen. Dean texted Juliet and let her know they'd finished up. When Sam, Caleb, Max and Ryker took off, Ben came back into the house with Nicholas and a very sleepy Mac.

Nicholas headed immediately for Joshua and snuggled up against him on the couch, yawning.

"You ready for bed?" Joshua asked, rubbing the child's back.

Nicholas nodded and closed his eyes.

"Then let's get the fort started," Dean stated. With James and JT both upstairs getting their old room ready for the night, he went into the upstairs closet and pulled out sheets, several blankets, and a couple of pillows.

"I'll take those downstairs, Dad," JT said, coming up behind Dean and taking the stack out of his arms.

"Thanks," Dean said with a smile. Reaching down and shuffling aside old boxes and pairs of rain boots and sneakers, he pulled out first one, then two child-sized air mattresses. Standing, he stared at them for a long moment. JT and James had used these for several years on camping trips, campouts by the lake, nights of adventure sleeping in the barn, and on stormy nights when the electricity went out and they'd all slept together as a family in the living room, keeping warm before the fire. They hadn't been used in years, and bringing them out brought back cherished memories of giggles and whispers late into the night.

"Want me to take those downstairs?"

Dean looked up to see James watching him, a mischievous smile on his face. Huffing out a soft laugh, he nodded and handed them to his son. "We're building a fort."

"I love forts," James said. "Do we still have our stuffed animals?"

"You're asking me? They were your animals," Dean retorted.

James laughed. "I think some are in our closet. I'll get them after I take these downstairs."

"I'll get them," Dean said, going down the hall into JT and James' old room. Not much had changed since the boys had lived at the farm. Dean and Juliet hadn't seen any reason to convert the boys' room into something else, so it just remained their room like it had been his and Sam's before. Now, of course, JT's duffel was lying near his old bed while James' coat was tossed across his own. At the closet, Dean opened the door to old school clothes and worn sneakers. Books and notepads were piled on the top shelf along with a couple of old baseball gloves and a well-worn backpack. On the closet floor were a limp soccer ball and two baseball bats. Kneeling down, Dean fished into the back of the closet until he felt fluffiness, and pulled out three soft teddies, worn with love.

"I'd forgotten those were there," JT said, coming into the room.

"Remember this one?" Dean said, holding up a blue teddy bear.

JT laughed. "Jimmy thought it was an alien, because bears didn't come in blue."

Dean chuckled and reached into the closet again, pulling out a fluffy brown dog.

"Sandy," JT exclaimed softly, coming over to take the dog from his father. "I forgot about him."

"You wouldn't sleep without him when you were five," Dean said, smiling.

"We couldn't bring the dogs upstairs, so I had to settle for a stuffed one."

"After the dogs were trained, we let them sleep up here."

"Pastor Jim used to let you and Uncle Sam sleep with Atticus Finch and Scout." JT knew that his and James' room used to be his father and uncle's when they were small, and he knew that Pastor Jim let the dogs sleep with them. But remembering the past included saying things everyone already knew, and relishing that.

Dean nodded. "Atticus Finch would jump up on the bed, turn around three times and lay down right between our legs." He smiled. "Scout would get the end of the bed."

"I loved having d'Artagnan and Porthos sleep on our beds."

"And later Aramis and Athos," Dean added.

JT nodded. "There was something so comforting about having that warm, furry body lying near your legs, you know?"

"I felt the same growing up," Dean agreed. He heard a car engine in the yard and knew Juliet and Carolyn were likely back from Caleb's. Rising, he lifted the teddies. "Ready to pass the torch?"

JT nodded and rose, his old toy dog in his hands. "I think Sandy will like sleeping with Nicholas and Mac."

When they two got downstairs, Juliet was opening the front door. Stepping inside, she gave Dean a kiss and before walking through into the kitchen to finish tidying up. James and Ben had already rearranged the living room so that the chairs from the kitchen and the high-backed cushioned chairs were across from one another, ready to be the tent poles for the fort. Joshua had cautioned them against draping the heavier blankets over the chairs, not wanting the fort to be too dark. He didn't want Nicholas to feel like he was in a cave again. James had replaced the dead batteries in the mattresses, and was now filling them up with air. Nicholas, curious about the mattresses, knelt nearby watching as they expanded.

When one was fully inflated, James drew the sheet over the mattress and said, "Climb on!"

Nicholas checked over his shoulder with Joshua and Carolyn, then climbed on the mattress. Smiling, he murmured, "Soft."

Ben placed a sleepy Mac on the other mattress, put a pillow under his head and pulled the blankets up over his son's shoulders. Leaning over, he said, "Night, Ace," and gave Mac a kiss on the forehead.

"Night, Daddy," Mac murmured before he rolled onto his side and fell asleep.

"I think it's time for another young man to get some sleep, don't you?" Joshua asked.

"Bed time, Baby," Carolyn said softly.

Nicholas nodded and lay down on his mattress. "Puppies," he said.

"You're right. They need to get to bed too," Joshua said.

"I got it," James said, and he went into the kitchen to fetch the cage.

Ben slid Mac's mattress slowly beneath the thin fabric of the fort until the edge of his mattress touched the sheet on the other side.

Joshua smiled at Nicholas and said, "Ready to go in?"

Nicholas nodded and smiled as Joshua slid the mattress underneath the sheet suspended between the chairs.

Nicholas looked up at the sheet. Reaching out, he ran his fingers along with soft fabric.

"We've got some friends here to protect you," Dean said with a smile. Holding up the teddies, he said, "These two," he held up the blue teddy and a black teddy, "will guard the entrance to your fort." He placed one teddy on the right, and one by the left side of the fort opening. "This teddy," he tucked it beneath Mac's covers, "will watch out for Mac."

"And this puppy," JT said, kneeling down and holding up his old stuffed dog, "is Sandy. Sandy used to sleep with me every night when I was your age. Do you think you can watch over him for me?"

Nicholas nodded and held out a hand.

"Thank you," JT murmured. "I love Sandy, and know you'll take good care of him."

JT moved back as Carolyn came forward and knelt down. "Do you remember where mommy and daddy will be sleeping?"

Nicholas nodded and pointed down the hallway.

"So, if you get scared or lonely, where are you going to go?"

"Mommy and daddy," Nicholas said with a sweet smile.

"Good boy," Carolyn said, and leaned in to give him a kiss.

James brought in the puppies and placed the cage nearest to Nicholas' side of the fort. "Here are Ted and Maxie."

Nicholas stuck his fingers through the thin wires of the cage, and Maxie sleepily licked them.

James and JT went upstairs while Dean set up a small lamp on the floor in the hallway.

Joshua knelt down and gave Mac a kiss on the top of his head, then gave Nicholas a kiss on the forehead and murmured, "Have a good night's sleep."

Rising, he went to the hallway and turned out the overhead light. There was still enough light in the living room from the small lamp on the floor, that he could see Nicholas watching him. "I'm going to be right there if you need me, all right?"

Nicholas nodded.

Turning and walking down the hallway away from his son was the hardest thing Joshua had ever done. He wanted to go back, get some blankets and sleep on the couch. He wanted to go back, snatch Nicholas up from that air mattress and bring him to bed with him and Carolyn. But instead, he opened the door to the guest room and went inside.

"He's going to be all right," was the first thing Carolyn said.

Joshua chuckled softly. "I hope so. But if not, he knows where we are."

"We're not going to get a lot of sleep tonight, are we?" Carolyn said wryly.

"No," Joshua said, sitting on the bed. "I don't think we are." Looking up at his wife, he said, "But we can at least be comfortable. Why don't you change? I'll change when you're finished, and we'll leave the small light on and the door ajar in case Nicholas wants to come in."

"Perfect," Carolyn said, leaning down to kiss her husband. "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"I can never hear that too often," Joshua stated. "And I love you."

.

Nicholas lay still for a long time, listening to the sounds of the house. He didn't like being out here without Joshua and Carolyn. The creaks this house made weren't the creaks he was used to, and that meant scary. He wanted to go down the hallway and sleep with mommy and daddy, but he didn't want to leave Mac out here on his own. After several more minutes crept by, he reached over and scratched Mac's shoulder. His friend didn't move. Reaching out again, he gave Mac's shoulder another small scratch.

Slowly, very slowly Mac opened his green eyes.

Nicholas watched his friend, hoping he wasn't mad.

A slight crease appeared between Mac's eyes. "You 'kay?"

Nicholas didn't speak for a moment, then he whispered, "Scared."

Mac's eyes went overhead to the sheet, then swept around the living room. "Fort?"

Nicholas nodded.

Slowly Mac's eyes went back to his friend, and he smiled. "Move over."

Nicholas frowned.

Mac pushed himself up on one elbow and repeated softly, "Move over."

Nicholas' eyes widened a bit and he shifted back on his air mattress, leaving enough room for Mac to climb on.

Mac pulled his blankets with him and put them on top of Nicholas' blankets, a heavy cover of warmth for two small boys. Laying his head on the other boy's pillow, he whispered, "Together."

Nicholas smiled. "Maxie and Ted."

"You think they're scared?" Mac asked.

Nicholas nodded.

Mac reached over his head and unlatched the cage. Tickling Ted's furry side, he smiled when the small beagle puppy climbed slowly out of the cage and crawled between Mac and Nicholas, snuggling up against Nicholas' neck. Soon after Maxie climbed out to join them.

Nicholas smiled at his friend. "Together."

Mac nodded, "Together," he murmured, and let his eyelids fall shut.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you, everyone, again for the encouragement and reviews. I'm so glad ya'll are enjoying the story._

_I also hope everyone is protecting themselves, getting enough rest and staying at home when possible. Since I have more time at home this week, I'll try to curb my obsessive nitpicking and get more chapters out this next week. Take care, all!_


	9. Chapter 9

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 9

.

It was after midnight when Dean slipped down the stairs, his socked feet silent on the old wood. After all these years, he knew where every squeaky step was, and avoided them. Stopping to take a peek into the living room, he saw that Mac and Nicholas were asleep on one of the air mattresses, their little legs tangled up together. The puppies' cage door was open, and Ted and Maxie were nestled between the boys, both small faces tucked up together under Nicholas' chin. Smiling, he walked silently down the hall and turned into the Tomb.

Once inside, he moved past the large table to the back wall. Most of the wall was filled with shelves that were crammed with books. Beside the shelves sat a small table with a large printer on top. Above the table hung an old picture of Merlin. Dean had no idea how long the picture had been handed down from Guardian to Guardian, but its age showed in the nicked frame and faded paint. Merlin stood atop a small hill, heavy trees and stormy sky as backdrop. His eyes blazing, magic lashed out from his fingertips. At his side were three men; one carried a book and a glass eye, the second a taloned dagger, and the third stood a step or two in front of the others, his face resolute, a massive sword clenched in both hands. Reaching out, Dean touched the lower right corner of the picture, one inch in from the edge, and murmured, "Ego praesidia Fratrum, una electi. _(I am the Guardian of the Brotherhood, one of the chosen)_." The corner of Dean's mouth lifted slightly as the picture slid to the left, revealing a slim, bronze handle. Even after all these years, saying those words still gave him a thrill. He took the handle and turned it clockwise, and a door appeared in the wall. It slid backwards and to the left, allowing him to enter a small, six-by-five foot room.

Once inside, Dean went over to a large multi-use machine in the corner where several sheets of paper lay in the tray. The cover letter said; _Checking chemical companies and biotech corporations for test studies. Results to follow. _"Thanks, Jacob," he murmured. Turning to the small table in the corner of the room, he sat down to study the information.

The first several sheets covered instances of violence in the city, and the numbers were staggering. Over a two-week period, four-hundred and thirty fights had broken out across the city, there were fifty-six murders, three-hundred and eight cases of domestic violence, a hundred and forty-six percent rise in burglaries, and a four hundred and nine percent rise in traffic collisions and accidents.

"Damn," Dean murmured.

On the medical side, the hospitals were overrun with injuries from minor to major. The three-hundred and eight cases of minor injuries were turned over to neighborhood Urgent Care Facilities, while the one hundred and fifty-nine major traumas were distributed to equipped hospitals within the Anaheim area.

According to Jacob, police footage showed out-of-control violence in several pockets of the city, notably centered in the bars, clubs and pubs; restaurants were also a hot spot, gyms were worse. Some of the pages contained excerpts from police reports. It was the reports from the last day of violence that were most relevant to their current hunt: fights and violent altercations that stopped abruptly. Each report cited brawler aggression stopping quickly, leaving all the scrappers drained and wanting to know what happened. Ben said rushes of adrenaline could leave people confused and with possible short-term memory loss. These reports appeared to corroborate that.

At the back of the pile were several grainy photographs. Before the first was a note from Jacob saying he and his team had gone through all the crime scene photos looking for repetition in people and vehicles. There were pictures of two men and one woman who were at multiple brawl and fight scenes; man one, thirteen times; man two, nineteen times; the woman, eleven times. Dean studied the photos, one of the men and the woman were identified and their police records were included in Jacob's report. After reading through them, Dean could eliminate them as suspects, as their history were as drunks and troublemakers. For the unidentified dark-haired man, he set that one aside. Since Jacob couldn't identified him from the police records, Dean knew he would be looking through the FBI, CIA and NSA files.

For vehicles, Jacob circled the number of times each vehicle was seen in the crime scene photos. On the first one Jacob had written seven atop the photo of a red corvette. The second photo was of a tan sedan with the number five and the license plate highlighted with the driver's name and address. The third photo contained the same information along with the number eleven, and the last photo carried a black sports car with the number twelve circled. Beside the number Jacob had written _unregistered vehicle? No records found._ It was the last picture of the black car that captured Dean's attention, because there was a man standing beside the vehicle. His face was in profile, his hand resting on the open driver's side door. The man had white hair, like the man David Lassiter had described from Crossing. The quality of the photo was poor, but he figured this was the first captured picture of the person who could be behind the upheavals. Jacob had written next to the picture; _one sighting, not enough pixel resolution for facial recognition imaging_.

Setting aside the bulk of the report, Dean stared down at the picture of this mysterious man. He didn't look American; more Eastern European or Middle Eastern. Something about the tilt of his head and the way he held himself. Americans were more casual and relaxed in their stance, even slouchy. This man was straight-backed, but not rigid; more regal, possibly entitled. His hand rested on the door handle of the Hennessey as though only a flick of his fingers would cause the door to swing open. Most Americans were more energetic when they were about to drive their vehicles, especially if it was of a caliber like the Hennessey Venom, which would be a masterpiece to drive. No, this man wasn't American.

Turning to the laptop on the table, Dean booted it up. When he pulled up the Internet, he typed Hennessey Venom F5 in the search bar. On the results page he clicked on the Hennessey Special Vehicles Website, looked up the model and checked the vehicle stats. The Hennessey stood three feet, seven inches at its tallest. Dean looked back at the photograph. The roof of the vehicle was a little above the man's waist. That meant he was tall, easily Sam's height or taller. Jotting that onto a legal pad, he continued to make observations on the man's weight, his clothes, his hair color as best as he could from the photograph.

Finally, he sat back and yawned. His body was stiff from sitting in the straight-backed wooden chair, no matter the padded seat. Glancing up at the clock, he got a shock: it was after three in the morning. He hadn't realized he'd been working so long. Stacking up the pages, he placed them in a folder and walked out of the hidden room. The door slid shut and the picture slipped back in place. He then returned the table with the printer back under the frame. After placing the folder on the table, he walked out of the Tomb.

When he passed the living room again, he stopped when he saw Joshua sitting in a chair near the hallway, watching the boys. Looking up, Joshua smiled. "Get some information?"

Dean huffed out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, law enforcement information about Anaheim. We'll go over it tomorrow."

Joshua nodded.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Wanted to make sure Nicholas wasn't afraid of sleeping in a strange house on his own without me and Carolyn." Joshua watched Nicholas and the puppies. "He seems to be doing fine."

"Mac's in bed with him," Dean said softly. "He probably got a little freaked, and Mac climbed in. Mac's good like that."

"Yes, he is," Joshua said, smiling. Little Mac always reminded him of his adoptive father, whom he missed something fierce. Though the two Macs weren't related by blood, the child's steady demeanor, his compassion and curious nature just reminded Joshua of his step-father. Mac had always been supportive and loving with his stepson, never treating him as anything other than blood. He'd cherished that after having grown up under the demanding, distant Harland Sawyer. "I miss him," he murmured.

"I know," Dean said, knowing exactly who Joshua was talking about.

"He was the only real father I ever had. I cherish the years I got call him that."

Dean nodded, but didn't say anything.

With a sigh, Joshua rose slowly and walked quietly into the living room. Gently he ran a hand over Mac's dark head and Nicholas' blonde one before turning back to where Dean was standing. "I think I'll head back to bed. You should get some sleep as well."

"I will," Dean said, his eyes still on the two little boys asleep in their fort. "Yeah, I will."

* * *

_Sunday Morning…_

Ethan strode through the terminal of the West Houston Airport, a small privately-owned aviation airport in Harris County. It was just before six in the morning, and he knew Caleb's Hawker 1000 Jetliner was already fueled and ready for takeoff.

The jetliner had gotten a lot of use in the last week, with Caleb and Dean taking it to Utah, Caleb sending it to Arizona to pick up JT, and now this trip to Houston to take him and Elijah to the farm for a brain storming session about the mysterious violent eruptions around the country. Since it was less than a two hour flight, the jetliner would bring them back that evening, so he could be at work in the morning. The precinct was still in disarray and he didn't want to be gone long.

"Ethan!"

Ethan looked up and saw Elijah standing beside a check-in desk. Smiling, he waved and increased his stride. "Eli," he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Leave it to you to be late," Elijah said with a smile.

"The flight doesn't leave for…" Ethan squinted at his watch.

"Ten minutes," Elijah said.

"Then I'm not late."

"We should have already boarded." Elijah looked back at the gate agent and drawled, "In the world according to Ethan, you're only late if the plane is in the air."

"Damn straight," Ethan declared. He handed his driver's license and police badge over the counter top to the agent and waited until they were passed back.

"The Hawker stairs are already lowered. Once you gentlemen are on board, the captain will signal the tower, and you'll start taxiing to the runway. Take off will be in fifteen minutes." The young woman stepped out from behind the desk and walked to a nearby hallway. "Go through the third door on your right. The plane will be directly ahead."

"Thank you," Elijah said.

Together the two brothers walked down the hall and out the door. Within seconds they were up the stairs and sitting in the luxurious seats of the Hawker.

Captain Michael Foster stepped out of the cockpit and said, "Gentlemen, this will be a quick flight. I'll be staying over in Louisville in order to fly you both back tonight. There are croissants and coffee in the rear galley."

"Thank you," Elijah said.

"Then I hope you get some time off," Ethan said, grinning.

"Don't mind the flights," Captain Michael Foster stated. Giving both brothers a grin, he confided, "Best gig I ever had."

Ethan laughed as the pilot went back into the cockpit and closed the door. Looking over at his brother, he asked, "Want some coffee?"

Elijah shook his head. "I'm tired. Think I'll try and get some sleep before we land."

Ethan nodded and used the side lever to lower his chair back. "Yeah, think I will too. It's been a crazy few weeks. It'll take me a year to catch up on my sleep."

Elijah snickered. "It'll take you a month."

Smiling, Ethan conceded, "Maybe."

There was silence as the plane taxied to the runway. As the jetliner picked up speed, Elijah said, "You think there's someone behind all this, don't you?"

Ethan rolled his head to the side, eyes on his brother. "Yeah, and I haven't the vaguest idea who that is or how to stop them."

Elijah nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, neither do I."

* * *

Dean rolled over and knew the bed was empty. "Uuggghhh," he groaned. A look at the clock told him it was after ten in the morning. "Damn it," he grumbled, and shoved himself into a sitting position. He should have been up two hours ago.

A knock on the door had him turning around to see Sam walk in. "Bout time you woke up," Sam said, dropping into the chair near the bed and propping his feet up on the mattress.

Dean frowned. "Juliet?"

"Making a very late breakfast." Sam yawned before taking a sip from his coffee mug.

"Mary here?"

"No. Josie got home this morning, so they're spending the day together. They'll both fly back to New York this evening. Josie's got a friend who gave her two buddy tickets in exchange for free passes to the New York Museum of Art and the Whitney Museum of American Art. Apparently the friend and her mom are fans."

Dean nodded. "You sleep all right?"

"Mary and I stayed up until after midnight talking, but it seems we got more sleep than you," Sam stated. "Juliet said you didn't get to bed until almost four."

Just the mention of four in the morning had Dean yawning. "I got the intel about Anaheim. Sorta got caught up in reading it and lost track of the time."

"It's in the Tomb?"

Dean nodded.

Sam watched his brother and wished he could give him another couple hours of sleep. He looked tired. Instead, he said, "Elijah and Ethan will be here soon."

Dean looked around. "Why are they coming?"

"Have you checked your email?" Sam asked, smiling.

Dean thought back over the last couple of days, and honestly couldn't remember if he'd check it or not. Seeing Sam's grin, he defended, "I've been busy."

Sam laughed out loud. "Ethan sent you a very detailed report covering the law enforcement records of the violence in Houston over the last two weeks. Elijah has done the work on the Houston social media front. They're coming to compare notes and find out, and I quote, _What the hell is going on_."

Dean gave an acknowledging shrug and pushed himself up. After a long stretch, he asked, "Everyone else up?"

"Yup. Nicholas, Mac and Lisa Anne have already eaten and are playing outside. JT is showing some of his pictures from the shoot at the Supai Village to Juliet and James. They're pretty amazing," Sam added. "Caleb drove in to Louisville to pick up Elijah and Ethan, then they're all come over along with Max and Ryker."

"Joshua?"

"He and Carolyn are watching the kids while Ben and Maya have a bite to eat. They're leaving in a couple of hours."

Dean nodded. "What's on the agenda?"

"Go over what we have, figure out where to go from here."

"Ben needs to talk to Onida," Dean said, "see if she can give him another viewpoint on what happened to you, Caleb and Lassiter."

"I'll text Caleb. If Onida isn't with him, he can either stop by and pick her up, or she can drive over in her own car."

"Good," Dean said, stretching again. "I'll be out in a bit."

Sam nodded and rose. "Eat a good breakfast, cause I think we're going to need all our brain cells on this one."

Dean bit his lip as he stared at the closed door. "Yeah," he said to himself, "I think you're right on that one."

This hunt was an odd one, with random violence spread out across the country. Monsters didn't fight that way. Sure, years ago a vampire named Beckett Moreau had attempted to unite the vampires into a fighting force, but he'd been unsuccessful. Dean had always wondered if the vampire would have had a smoother road to success if he hadn't kidnapped two-thirds of the Triad. He might have made more headway, but he had no doubt the end would have been the same. Of course, David Lassiter showed that some monsters lived in one unit like family, as did the werewolf families in Chicago. However, integrating non-humans into the fabric of a very human society took discipline and an adherence to human laws. As a rule, monsters didn't obey laws nor congregate. Violence could be a goal, but they liked to participate, not sit on the sidelines and watch. So the question became, what was happening and who was orchestrating the drama?

And what was in the damn box?

His mind went back to the shadowy figure preparing to climb into the black car. While the photo didn't yield much about the man, Dean's gut told him this was a very dangerous and powerful person, and he had no doubt whatsoever that David Lassiter had felt the same.

**.**

Twenty minutes and a long hot shower later, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table eating eggs, biscuits and a cup of fruit.

"JT's pictures are amazing," Juliet enthused. "You need to check them out before he goes back to his place. And I think we need to plan a visit to this village."

Dean looked up, his coffee poised half way to his lips. "What? Go to Arizona?"

"You've been there before, haven't you?"

Dean frowned, casting his mind back through the years. "Maybe, years ago." Suddenly he remembered a strange hunt from years before. The mysterious hum and his encounter with the bear on a dirt trail. He'd been injured, and had crawled into a cave for shelter. Caleb and Sam had found him and taken him to a hospital. Sam had been at Stanford then, and had refused to answer calls from Dean. That day on the mountain had been the first time he'd seen Sam in months. No, he really didn't want to go back to Arizona.

"Then we have to go. There's this waterfall that is idyllic." Juliet got up and refilled Dean's coffee before starting to put the food away. "There's virtually no communication with the outside world." Leaning over, she whispered in Dean's ear, "I want two whole days there with you and no one else." When Dean looked around, she bobbed her brows at him suggestively, then put the fruit into the refrigerator.

Maybe Arizona wouldn't be so bad this time around. Grinning, Dean said, "I'd even fly on Caleb's plane for that."

"Then mark your calendar, Mister," Juliet stated. "After you clean up the current evil, we're going."

"Going where?" James asked, coming into the kitchen. Grinning at his mother, he said, "Those pictures were amazing."

"They were," Juliet agreed. "I can't wait to see the feature in print."

"Uncle Sam said there's more information on the hunt," James stated.

"James Murphy Winchester," Juliet stated, "You know we don't talk about work at the table."

"Sorry, Mom," James said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'll check in with Ben, see if he needs help getting the camper packed up."

"When is he planning on leaving?" Dean asked, forking the last of his eggs in his mouth.

"Around noon, I think."

Nodding, Dean rose, washed his plate off in the sink and placed it in the dishwasher. "Where is he?"

"Outside with Uncle Joshua," James said, pointing to the back yard.

Dean leaned over and gave Juliet a kiss. "Did Sam tell you Ethan and Elijah were coming in today?"

Juliet nodded. "I'm heading into town for supplies with Carolyn and Onida."

"How about just Carolyn," Dean suggested. "Ben needs to talk with Onida about how she helped Caleb and Sam yesterday."

"Onida's going to be disappointed," Juliet informed him. "I'm going to get changed."

Dean frowned. "Why? You look great."

"Ah," Juliet smiled, and leaned over to kiss Dean again.

"Come on," James whined, looking the other direction.

Dean smirked. "I love traumatizing the kids."

"Me too," Juliet said, grinning wickedly. "Write down anything you want and I'll get it while I'm out," she called as she headed for the stairs.

James went to help Dean finish loading the dishwasher. "You know when Uncle Caleb will get here?"

"No. I'm not sure when Ethan and Elijah's plane landed."

James nodded. They worked in silence for several minutes before he said, "Monsters don't start country-wide violence."

"No," Dean agreed, washing out a cup and placing it on the top rack. He poured in the dishwashing liquid and closed and set the machine. Standing, he leaned back against the counter. "Other than demons, monsters don't usually have a vision for worldwide domination."

James stopped clearing the counter. "You think this person is going for worldwide domination?"

"It was just an expression," Dean said with a smile. "But I suppose if he were, here would be the place to start. The United States is one of the biggest powers in the world, and there's freedom to move around."

"But why would someone want to do a spell over a whole country?" James asked thoughtfully. "Power? That's a rather archaic premise in the modern world. Wouldn't the goal be money, wealth? You can do anything with enough money."

"That's pretty powerful," Dean commented, casting his son a sidelong look.

James rolled his eyes. "All right. Money is power."

"Wanting power is eternal," Dean stated, but he frowned. James saying _the_ _modern world_ reinforced his hunch that maybe the shadowy man in the picture was old or from an old world country.

"If the violence is a result of a spell, then we're looking at a powerful Sorcerer or coven. If we rule out magic, then we're looking at a drug administered through the air or the water, mass hypnosis or subliminal influence."

Dean's brows rose in surprise; he hadn't even thought of subliminal influence. He would forever be amazed at his gifted and intelligent children.

James saw the smile and misinterpreted it. "You already thought of that, didn't you?"

"No," Dean readily admitted. "I hadn't, actually. I was stuck on the violence and the nature of it, where it was happening. Yeah, I'd ruled out most monsters, but I hadn't gone further than that yet. And I hadn't thought of subliminal mind control at all."

James relaxed. "Subliminal messaging is much easier than you'd imagine, with digital advertising. People work on computers all the time, tablets and cell phones are common place. You've got LED and digital advertising everywhere. In fact, there's been research on influencing people through acoustical mind control. We're surrounded by mediums that can send subliminal messages."

Dean frowned. "Acoustical mind control? I've heard of that in science fiction movies, but that's really possible?"

"IRL, Dad." James smirked.

"IRL?"

"In real life," said James stated, rising to refill his coffee cup.

Dean rolled his eyes behind his son's back.

"Do you think there are any covens that are trying to make a name for themselves by creating havoc?" James asked.

"I haven't heard anything, but power is addictive." Dean knew covens wanted power, and Joshua's coven wasn't exempt from that pursuit. "Sounds like something Joshua and maybe Adam would need to check out."

They heard the sound of tires on the driveway

James rose and hurried to the front door, flinging it open just as Onida was about to knock.

Jerking back in surprise, Onida exclaimed, "Oh! Hi. Did you sense me or something?"

James stepped aside, holding open the door. "No," he said, smiling. "We heard the car drive up."

"That makes more sense," Onida stated. "Clairvoyant doesn't mean psychic."

"Actually…" James started.

"Not in that way," Onida clarified.

James laughed, and retreated to the kitchen.

Dean walked up. "Morning."

Onida smiled. "Good morning. Max and Ryker went with Caleb to pick up Ethan and Elijah. They're on their way."

"Good. Do you have some time to tell Ben about what happened with Caleb, Sam, and especially David Lassiter yesterday?"

Onida's face fell slightly. "We were going shopping."

Dean felt horrible. Going to the grocery store could hardly be called _shopping_, but to Onida, going to the store with friends was something she cherished.

"Okay," Onida said quickly. She'd felt Dean aura darken, and knew he felt bad about asking her to stay. "Juliet and I can go real shopping tomorrow. Plus, Carolyn said she would take us to a spa she knows so we can get facials." Her voice had risen in excitement at the thought of a spa. "I've never had a real facial."

"Thank you," Dean said, "and I appreciate it."

Onida nodded. "Where's Ben?"

"Outside. I'll get him."

Five minutes later Dean, Ben and Onida were sitting across from one another in the living room.

"I'm not sure what to tell you," Onida said. "I healed them."

Ben smiled. "Just tell me what you did as concisely as you can."

"There's no pressure," Dean said softly. "Describe what happened and Ben will do the rest."

Ben stared at his father. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to interpret what Onida did as something medical, and it sure wouldn't be a diagnosis.

Knowing exactly what Ben was thinking, Dean gave him a smile and said, "And you do your best to figure out what she says."

Ben huffed out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

"But I do energy," Onida reminded them, "not biology."

"You do biology," Ben said reassuringly "You just call it something else."

"Yeah, okay," Onida said uncertainly. Sighing, she thought back to when Caleb had fallen to the ground. It had been a scary experience.

"What happened when you touched Caleb? Dad said you reacted like you'd been burned."

"It was … like touching a livewire." Onida frowned, trying to find the words. "I didn't know what was going on at first, but it was like his body was in flux."

"Flux?"

Onida nodded slowly, her eyes still closed. "Like it was shifting around. I stabilized myself and touched him again, focusing on his brain. He couldn't speak or talk, and his mind was in chaos, fluctuating and vibrating for some reason. So I pushed energy into healing the fluctuation and it stabilized. His blood pressure was erratic, so I focused on calming and lowering the pressure. Sam was the same, only not as dramatic."

Ben nodded, taking notes. Onida healed with energy and had been taught to control magnetics and the brain contained magnetic particles. The brain was a complicated machine. Onida healed it using instinct and energy. He needed to put science to her metaphysics.

"What happened with David Lassiter?"

"That was weird. As a shapeshifter, his cells are different; malleable like jelly. I suppose that's necessary, as they take on a different shape to mimic different people." She frowned. "Is that right? They're being someone else?"

Ben chuckled. "Pretty much."

"When Brian showed me how a shapeshifter changed, he didn't become someone else; he just became a younger version of himself," Onida mused.

"When a shapeshifter becomes someone else, they need to connect to that person psychically," Dean explained. "They feed off their thoughts and read their memories to become the best version of that other person. When they're finished, sometimes they kill them."

"But not always."

"No," Dean stated. "Sometimes they just move on. Years ago a friend of Sam's called on him for help. Her brother had been arrested for murder because a shapeshifter used his body to kill someone. Unfortunately, the victim often becomes the scapegoat for the shapeshifter, as they're left to pick up the pieces or take the blame for what the shapeshifter has done."

"Are the two shapeshifters I met like that?" Onida asked.

"No. David Lassiter is the leader of the shapeshifters in Chicago, and he keeps a pretty tight rein on his people."

Onida nodded slowly. "Anyway, David's cells were fluctuating all over the place, like they weren't capable of holding their form. But I realized there was a frequency at which the cells would stabilize. I focused on pouring energy into that frequency and keeping a hard line on that tone, and his cells slowly stabilized."

"A frequency?" Dean asked, frowning.

"The human body has a fundamental resonant frequency of between five and ten hertz, depending on which research you believe," Ben stated.

Onida nodded. "It seems like the shapeshifters resonate around twenty-five hertz."

"Interesting," Ben said, continuing to write.

Onida leaned forward, watching the young man. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to put what you're saying into medical terms," Ben said with a smile. "Maybe we can figure out what happened to Uncle Sam and Uncle Caleb, medically speaking."

"Why? I thought Caleb and Sam were affected because they were psychic."

"Other psychics may be affected, or other species, like the shapeshifters," Ben said. "If I can figure out how you helped them, then the medical arm of the Brotherhood can help anyone else who goes through the same thing."

"Oh," Onida said, interest threading her voice. "What do you think?"

"Well, this is very preliminary, and I'll need more time to focus on body magnetics and resonance, but it looks as though both Caleb and Sam's parietal and occipital lobes were unstable. The parietal lobe receives and processes sensory information, and the occipital lobe processes visual data and routes it to other parts of the brain for identification and storage. It also seems as though their thalamus was damaged somehow. The thalamus acts as a two-way relay station, sorting, processing, and directing signals from the spinal cord and mid-brain structures up to the cerebrum. It's almost like all the relay pathways of their brains suffered a short of some kind."

Dean was leaning forward, frowning. "What could cause that?"

"Typically a brain fever, or trauma from an accident or blow to the head," Ben said. "Sometimes meningitis causes disruptions in the brain. Some illness cause lesions on the brain, which can disrupt brain function" He shook his head. "But we know none of that occurred here. I'll need some help checking the supernatural records to see if something mystical could cause brain disruptions like we saw in all three men."

"Alison can put someone on that," Dean offered.

"I think I'll check with the network first," Ben stated. "Their medical experience could help, or at the very least cut down on research pathways."

Onida rose and said, "Have Juliet and Carolyn gone to the store yet?"

"They left fifteen minutes ago," Dean said regretfully.

"Then I'm going outside to play with Nicholas, Mac and Lisa Anne," Onida declared, moving toward the kitchen. Abruptly she stopped in the hallway and looked back, as though something had just occurred to her. "Or maybe I should help Maya pack." Giving the two men a guilty smile, she walked through the kitchen and out the back door, obviously choosing playtime over packing.

Dean laughed. "She really loves having Nicholas, Mac and Lisa Anne around. You sure you can't stay longer?"

Ben rose. "I've got rounds in the morning. And if I want to get all this," he waved his notepad in the air, "down into a cohesive report and out to the community, I'll need to get going."

Dean sighed, wishing they could stay longer.

"We'll be back in a couple weeks," Ben stated. "I can't keep Mac from Nicholas much longer or he starts demanding I get him a video phone of his own so he can talk to Nicholas as often as possible."

Dean followed his son through the kitchen saying, "I told you about relocating closer to home."

Ben grinned. He'd definitely been giving the suggestion a lot of thought.

**.**

It just after twelve-thirty when Ben and Maya, Mac and Lisa Anne left the farm for home. Everyone gathered in the front yard to see the family off, with JT and James jogging alongside the camper, shouting that Ben should reconsider staying for lunch. Juliet and Dean stood at the base of the porch stairs, waving as the vehicle headed down the drive. Nicholas leaned into Joshua's legs, saddened at seeing Mac leave. He'd stood watching the camper drive off, little Mac at the back window waving to his best friend.

Joshua rubbed at Nicholas's back. "You'll see him again soon."

Juliet decided a distraction was needed, and went inside to call Adam and Margaret. Soon she was back outside saying, "You boys will have to fend for yourselves during lunch today. Carolyn, Onida and I are taking Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas to lunch and then the park."

Joshua frowned. "Margaret?"

"I asked her to come, but she'd like to have some alone time with Adam," Juliet said with a smile.

Carolyn went over to Nicholas and held out her hand. "Come on, baby. Let's go get Maisie and Lucas and have some lunch. Then we can go to the park!"

Nicholas looked back at the house, where Ted and Maxie were resettled inside their cage in the corner of the kitchen.

JT came over and knelt beside the small boy. "Why don't you go have lunch, and when you're done, I'll bring Maxie and Ted over to the park, deal?"

"Food?" Nicholas asked.

"I'll make sure they get some lunch."

Nicholas looked relieved and smiled.

"Come on, then," Carolyn said, holding out her hand.

"We'll be back later," Juliet said, leaning in to give Dean a kiss, "or when you sound the All Clear."

With Juliet and the others gone, it fell to Dean to organize lunch. He put JT and James to work cutting up fruit while he and Joshua put together sandwiches and Sam made a pitcher of Pastor Jim's sweet tea. They were laying plates and napkins on the table when they heard the cars in the driveway. It wasn't very long before Ethan, Elijah, Caleb, Max and Ryker had joined the others at the table.

Without the ladies around to add civility, lunch was noisy and boisterous as everyone laughed, joked and enjoyed the camaraderie. Eventually when the sandwich plate was empty and the chip bowls considerably lower, the younger generation got up and went outside to talk and finish their iced tea or water, leaving the others loitering around the table.

"It's been great, being around Pastor Jim's table again," Ethan said, his gaze taking in the old cupboards and the pantry door. Very little had changed since he, Elijah and Gideon had come here in their youth; same cupboards, same old fridge, same hutch against the wall. "We used to sneak slices of Pastor Jim's apple pie from the pantry. Being here is a walk down memory lane."

"Those were great times" Elijah agreed, also eyeing the familiar kitchen. As Jim Murphy's second proposed Triad, he, Ethan and Gideon Lane, Guardian of their trio, had come here to work with the Jim Murphy when they were young. Gideon had given his life to save Dean on a hunt in which the leadership of the Brotherhood had been in the balance. Since Dean, Sam and Caleb became the Triad, he and Ethan had been to the farm many times. Through those visits, the pain of losing Gideon had eased, with fond memories taking the place of sorrow. Lifting his eyes, he met Ethan's gaze across the table, and smiled. Gideon was a part of this house and its past just as they were.

Dean rose. "How about we move this into the Tomb, pool our information and see where we go from here." Turning, put grabbed the box of cling wrap and put it over the fruit.

Sam and Caleb both got up and started clearing the table.

Ethan and Elijah refilled their coffee mugs and headed for the Tomb while Joshua opened the back door and called for the younger generation.

When Ethan stepped into the Tomb, he went to straighten his paperwork while Elijah checked out the whiteboards. When they'd dropped off their notes earlier, there hadn't been time to review the work Sam and the others had already done. Now he wanted a good look.

After organizing his report, Ethan set his notes aside and began examining Sam's. After a minute he said, "These reports are similar to Houston."

"Yeah?" Elijah stepped away from the whiteboard to look over Ethan's shoulder. "Wow, those statistics are high. Where is this?"

"Anaheim," Ethan said. "It was the same in Houston."

Giving his brother a sidelong look, Elijah said, "I know you don't want to hear it, but I am sorry I didn't notice what was going on sooner."

Ethan smiled. "It snuck up on me too, little brother."

"Still, I could have helped."

"We all could have helped if we'd been paying more attention," Caleb stated, entering the Tomb carrying a plate of pastries. "But we're used to creature mayhem, not human mayhem. And violence in six cities when there are over twenty thousand cities and towns in the country redefines needle in a hay stack." Putting the plate down in the center of the table along with some napkins, he continued, "We're all agreeing to move on from guilt. Now, you'd better claim a seat before the boys come in." He hadn't even finished his sentence before Ryker, JT, Max and James filed into the Tomb and grabbed chairs around the table. "Too late."

There was general chatter and chair scraping until Sam entered carrying a large carafe of coffee followed by Dean.

"Sam?" Dean said.

Sam looked around the room and went for the jugular. "Here's what we've got so far…"

When Sam had finished, he sat down and looked over at Ethan and Elijah.

Ethan cleared his throat and said, "This is what I've got from the police reports," and he passed out some folders. "The majority of the written reports highlight the aggression of those involved in the brawls. Several combatants were just regular folk, ones not usually involved in these kinds of skirmishes. The back two pages are the written coverage of the end of the violence: all officers' remark on the fights stopping abruptly, with the combatants looking stunned or confused."

"Ben said that confusion or memory loss were symptoms of an aggression rush," James stated.

"Interesting," Ethan said thoughtfully. After a moment, he pulled up another folder and said, "This…" he handed out more sheets, "is a report of the preliminary blood results from the crowd at Viceroy's Cabaret. Nothing unusual in the blood: no toxins, poisons, antigens, hallucinogens or drug residue."

"When was the blood drawn?" Ryker asked.

"Within an hour of the fight ending," Ethan stated. "There was onsite triage, then all those involved in the brawl were taken to the Convention Center for observation. For most, blood was drawn within forty-five minutes of the fight. Due to the extreme nature of the disturbances, clinical analysis of the samples was expedited."

"That was a break," Sam commented.

"Did you have a warrant to draw the blood?" Caleb asked.

"No," Ethan said. "But while the Supreme Court ruled that law enforcement cannot take blood without a warrant, blood can be drawn in cases where people are unconscious and need treatment, are being treated for extreme injuries, or in the case of a possible pandemic."

"And this would have qualified," Elijah interjected.

Ethan nodded. "In addition, I was able to get a court order for my department tech to go over the digital surveillance footage from the Club. Since Viceroy's Cabaret has a fairly crappy recording system, she's working to clean up the footage in order to get decent images of those in the club."

"Can she see anything at this point?" Sam asked.

Ethan shook his head. "The chip is just too degraded to see much of anything. It almost wasn't worth the electricity to run the surveillance system. But Jacks is extremely skilled. I hope she'll be able to clean up enough of the footage for us to see who started the fight, or who might have instigated it."

Dean nodded.

JT's cell went off and he pulled it from his pocket. "I've got to take the puppies to the park," he said, rising.

"I'll help," Max said, and he followed JT from the Tomb.

"On the social media front," Elijah said, getting back on track, "I saw the red corvette license number 2BCF129 from the Anaheim photos in Houston nine times. Robert Kirkland seems to get around. As for the black car, I only saw that one once."

Sam groaned inwardly. He was hoping for more sightings of the dark sports vehicle.

"Have we heard anything from Alison?" James asked.

"So far they've covered Rockland, Ashland and Kennebunkport social media," Sam said. "Not much going on there. They're working on Baltimore now."

"And Jody?" asked Caleb.

"I got an email from her this morning," Sam said. "She, Mark and Donna went through the police reports and the social media photos and videos, and there was nothing conclusive. She said when she and Mark get back to South Dakota, they're going to look through social media again, but as of right now, we've got nothing from Stillwater."

Caleb nodded, disappointed.

"According to my contact in Anaheim, law enforcement records showcase the red corvette, the black Hennessy and a beige sedan multiple times," Dean said. "One of those pictures of the black car shows someone about to get in. A recent contact identified the black car near a scene of violence. Here's what I could get from the picture of the man." He handed around copies of the picture and what he could discern from the photo. "I know it's not accurate, but it's…"

"Dad, this is terrific," James exclaimed, his eyes on the photo and the description. "You should have been a cop."

"Don't insult me, Son," Dean chided.

"Hey!" Ethan interjected, his eyes on the copy of Dean's research.

Dean smiled at Ethan's mock offense. After a childhood spent being terrified of Child Protective Services and a youth and young adulthood tangling with law enforcement, he had no love for the police. Ethan Matthews and his own connections in California had made him much less wary of the services they offered.

"Excellent," Ethan murmured. "Good description. I don't think my team could have done any better."

Elijah looked around and room. "Just to make it official; we're definitely dealing with this like a full-fledged hunt." It was a statement, not a question.

"We are," Dean stated. "I think there's enough strangeness to warrant a deeper look."

"We've got some good leads with the cars and the anonymous man," Caleb stated. "Our first in-person citing was in Mount Vernon, Illinois by David Lassiter."

"The Shapeshifter?" Ethan asked. "He's your recent contact."

Caleb nodded. "He and a friend of his were coming home from a conference on ancient languages. They stopped at a club and Lassiter noticed him. He drove away in a black car, and left something behind," he finished, giving Sam a look.

Sam rose and went to the table with the printer. Opening a drawer, he pulled out the box David Lassiter and Brian Mayfare had turned over. Setting it on the table, he said, "We need to figure out what this box says."

Elijah moved in closer, frowning at all the sigils and lines of script. "How many languages are represented here?"

"At least five that we know of," Sam said. "Phoenician, Ancient Chinese, Sanskrit, Cuneiform and something earlier than Sumerian."

Elijah's head jerked up. "Come again?"

"That's what Brian thought," Sam said, "and he's the ancient languages expert."

"Brian Mayfare?" Elijah asked. "Where is he? He isn't staying to finish this?"

"He took a rubbing so he could continue to work on the translation," Sam said, "but we have our own resources."

"Yeah," Elijah nodded, "we do." Squinting a little, he said, "I think this," he pointed to a small three letter word in the lower left corner, "is Aramaic."

"Really?" James said, leaning in to view the small box.

Sam picked up a stack of papers and handed them over to Elijah. "Here's what he translated in one night."

Elijah bent over the page, nodding as he examined the rubbing and the translation.

"Do you know what's inside the box?" Ethan asked.

"No," Caleb said. "David opened it, and the results were unpleasant. Onida needed to heal him." He left out the residual effect on him and Sam. They didn't know anything about that either, so there was no point at this time. "He didn't get a look at what was inside."

"Is it safe right now?" Elijah asked.

"The box is cocobolo wood," Sam said. "Whatever's inside is contained."

Dean decided to move on, or they would be talking about ancient languages and the box for the next several hours if Sam, James and Elijah had anything to say about it. "We've got outbreaks of violence in six cities. I'm leaning toward the driver of the black Hennessey being the one behind this, though we'll not rule out the red corvette and Robert Kirkland as an accomplice."

"We'd considered the violence stemmed from either a toxin introduced into the water supply," James said, "or a biological weapon of some sort."

"We already eliminated toxins," Ethan said. "There was no trace in blood samples."

"Could it be a fast dissipating toxin?" Ryker asked.

"All toxins leave a trace of some sort if you look hard enough, even if the effects have subsided," Ethan said. "Our team was very thorough in view of the magnitude of the violence."

"In addition," Caleb added, "the outbreaks all happened within the space of two or three months. The logistics of coordinating a biological attack on that scale would take a massive amount of resources, and that's tough to keep quiet."

"Something would have leaked," James agreed.

"That leaves subliminal influence…" Caleb began.

"Or magic," Ryker finished.

"We figure a spell," Joshua stated quietly. "We just don't know which kind or how to counter it."

No one had much to say to that, and there was a general, uneasy silence. Finally Caleb looked over at Ethan and Elijah. "When do you need to get back home?"

Ethan glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was after five. "We should probably head back to Louisville now. By the time we get there, get on the jet and fly back, it'll be after nine o'clock before we land. I've got to get back to the precinct."

"Not tonight," Elijah stated, his brow furrowed.

"I've been gone since late yesterday," Ethan stated. "After all the unrest of the last couple months, I want to make an appearance before going home."

Elijah sighed his acceptance.

"All right," Caleb said, rising. "Let's get going."

JT and Max returned to the house and passed Caleb, Elijah and Ethan leaving.

After the three were on their way to Louisville, the remaining team sat around the table, looking at all the information spread out there. Dean's eyes were on the box.

"Don't even think about it," Joshua warned.

Sam's eyes shot up from his study of the box lid, then widened as he realized to whom Joshua spoke. Gaze darting to his brother, he said, "Absolutely not."

Dean sighed and with great restraint refrained from rolling his eyes. He hadn't planned on opening the box, but he was considering how to do it if it came down to that. "Eventually we'll need to know what's inside."

James and JT were watching their father with concern and fear on their faces.

"Even talking about opening the box is extremely premature," Joshua stated. "There may be clues as to what's inside once the lid is translated."

Ryker's eyes went from his mentor to Dean.

"And did you forget what happened to David, and by extension me and Caleb?" Sam demanded.

"I wasn't planning on being reckless," Dean argued. "If at some point the box needs to be opened, we could draw a protection circle around me so if anything went wrong…"

"No!" JT declared, his voice stern.

Ryker and Max's eyes shot to JT.

Staring his father down, JT said, "Uncle Joshua is right. It's premature to open the box. We translate the top and see what it says. Then we plan a way to use it." Forcing his heart to calm its rapid beating, he said, "There are a lot of other avenues to research, and opening the box is way down the list."

Dean stared at JT's white face and nodded. "I wasn't planning on opening the box right now," he said gently but firmly. "But we do need to consider how to do it safely should it need to be done."

JT's eyes stayed locked with his father's, the others waiting as the standoff between Guardian and Guardian-elect played out. James' face was pale as he watched his brother. Finally JT's shoulders relaxed and he nodded. "Agreed."

Sam got up, saying, "I'm going to get more coffee."

Joshua rose and walked from the Tomb followed by Ryker. Max got to his feet and tugged lightly on James' sleeve, silently urging him to come. The youngest Winchester didn't look as though he wanted to go, his eyes darting between his father and his brother, but finally he walked out.

Dean scooted around the table until he was next to his son. "I'm sorry we got into a discussion about something I was only contemplating. There are times when my mind runs in a million directions all at once, thinking through a situation from all angles and all it's possible contingencies." After a brief pause, he smiled and confided, "When I was younger, Dad used to come home and check my notes on some hunt he'd asked me to research. He said my scrawls were illegible and erratic."

JT smiled. "Really?" This was a story about his Winchester grandfather he hadn't heard before.

"I usually had to rewrite my notes so dad could understand them. I just don't think in a linear way like my dad or your Uncle Sam. My brain usually goes at a problem from a lot of random directions, but somehow comes out on one path. I wasn't planning on opening the box prematurely. I'm sorry I scared you."

JT shrugged slightly. "Scared is a bit extreme," he finally deflected, ignoring the fact that he was sure his face was whiter than snow. "When Uncle Joshua said…"

"You're Uncle Joshua knows I'm not going to do anything reckless," Dean said. Then amended, "Too reckless."

"When he said not to think about opening the box," JT swallowed. "I thought about what happened to Uncle Sam and Uncle Caleb."

"Yeah, well, you're Uncle Joshua sometimes jumps to conclusions." Leaning in, Dean stated sincerely, "I wouldn't do that to you or your brother."

JT nodded, sighing. "You know, this is really all Uncle Joshua's fault," he stated, giving his father a wry smile. "If he hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have jumped the gun."

"And then your Uncle Sam piled on."

JT nodded. "Yeah."

"You know, I think this whole situation was their fault."

JT laughed softly. "Yeah, we'll blame them."

Dean laughed and squeezed his son's neck. "I am so proud of you."

JT looked astonished. "Why? I freaked out."

"Because when you thought I was going to do something reckless, you stepped in and told me no. That takes courage and conviction of heart." Leaning in, Dean said earnestly, "You are going to make an outstanding Guardian."

The color came back to JT's face in a rush as he turned bright red. "Uh…"

Dean chuckled and rose. "I didn't tell your mom we were through, so she's probably on her way home, a little put out."

"You mean angry," JT corrected.

"Probably. Let's get some dinner on the table as a peace offering."

"You should text her now. We really did just finish, and she won't be as mad by the time she gets here."

"Good plan." Dean pulled his cell from his pocket as they walked from the Tomb. JT went on ahead to help with dinner while he sent off a text to Juliet.

After pocketing his cell, he thought back over his conversation with JT. It was a fact that his natural flare for problem solving was unlike his father's or Sam's. In his youth, he'd tried very hard to research hunts like his father, but his brain just didn't work that way. So he would research his way, come to a conclusion regarding a hunt, then rewrite his notes so his father could understand them. Later when he and Sam hunted together, their differing approaches to hunting had been an asset in their work. It was during those years, and with considerable encouragement from Caleb, that he began view his approach to hunting in a new light. Maybe his way of dissecting research and hunts wasn't wrong; just different.

Tonight, he'd been surprised when Joshua had called him out about opening the box. Yes, he'd been considering how to do it should the need arise, but they were nowhere near there. He wouldn't have put anyone in jeopardy like that without a damn good reason and a clear path to safety for Sam, Caleb, and James. That Joshua and then Sam went to the open-the-box place with so little provocation was an indicator that they were all feeling overwhelmed by the excessive amount of data on this hunt. Nodding his head decisively, he closed the door to the Tomb and headed for the kitchen. He was the Guardian of the Brotherhood, and it was up to him to set a concrete direction for this hunt before someone really did do something reckless.

.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 10

.

A dark, matte black Hennessey Venom was parked near a subway entrance on Grand. Officer Nathaniel Bowman walked around the car, taking a peek in through the windows: empty. Standing, he scanned the area for a person or persons unknown. Cars weren't plentiful in the downtown Chicago area at any time, and certainly not at two in the morning, especially at the Grand Transit Stop. Up the street were the State/Lake and Clark/Lake Stops, and those tended to have travelers, even at this hour as they were near the Siskel Film Center, the Daley Center and the Civic Opera house. Grand was a ghost town.

Stepping back from the car, he tapped the radio on his shoulder and said, "Bowman, badge number two-nine-seven. Abandoned vehicle on Grand between State and Dearborn. No pedestrians sighted."

"Ten/Four, Officer Bowman," Dispatch intoned. "Would you like a trailer dispatched?"

Nate thought for a moment, then said, "Negative. I'll check back in one hour and if the vehicle remains, we'll trailer it then."

"Affirmative. Dispatch out."

After reporting the vehicle, Nate pulled out his cell and hit speed dial three. A moment later David Lassiter came on the phone.

"Nate, you got something?" David voice sounded rough with sleep.

"You know that black car you sent out the alert about? Well, it's right here at Grand and State."

David's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Do you have the stabilizer on you?" After what happened to him in Mount Vernon, David had immediately ordered ultrasonic transmitters for his people in the field; police officers, firemen, transportation engineers, anyone who might come into contact with the Sorcerer, as he was now calling the mysterious white haired man. He'd ordered them to set the devises to twenty-five hertz, so they could maintain their form if they encountered the man.

"I do," Nathaniel said, fingering the small device in his pocket.

"Turn it on now," David said.

"But there's no one…"

"Now," David ordered.

Nathaniel clicked the device. "All right, it's on."

"Can the car be seen from surveillance cameras?"

"It's on the edge of the surveillance zone." Nathaniel looked around, then jerked in surprise as a very tall man stood not three feet from him. "Who are…"

The man blew a powder in his face, and Nathaniel's body went haywire.

"Nate?" David cried, as the other man's cell clattered to the ground. "Nate!"

The silver-haired man picked up the cell and stared at it a moment, before lifting it to his lips, and saying, "All clear…"

Nathaniel closed his eyes and focused on the vibration resonating from his pocket. If he could just… Suddenly his cells snapped back into place and he could move. Grabbing the man's arm, he had both of his arms muscled behind his back within seconds, a zip-tie binding his wrists together.

The man's eyes were wide, and it was apparent he was completely surprised.

Nathaniel touched his shoulder, activating his body cam. Bending, he picked up his cell which had fallen again as he subdued the man. "I'm … fine," he said to David.

"Help is on the way," David assured him.

"I'll just … what the hell?"

The man was standing with his hands free, watching Nathaniel with a slight smile on his face. "Vaṭiva māṟṟi." (_Shapeshifter_).

Nathaniel stepped back, his hand on his gun. "What?"

The man frowned, thought a moment, then said, "Figura Subcinctus."

Nathaniel got that one. Hesitating only a moment, he finally said, "Etiam." _(Yes)_ One didn't grow up in very Catholic Chicago without knowing at least a little Latin. They were indeed shapeshifters.

The man looked delighted. "Et Latine loquimur?"

"Non nimis," Nathaniel said. _(Not very well.)_ Where was his backup? He was feeling very isolated, and the man was freaking him out.

The man nodded, giving the shapeshifter a sympathetic look as though he knew exactly what he was thinking. Suddenly there was a screech of tires, and a sedan turned from Dearborn onto State and stopped right behind the black Hennessey. Four Shapeshifters got out and walked over. Nathaniel could have cried with relief. "Sure took your time," he muttered.

Each of the men had the ultrasonic transmitter going in their pockets.

The white-haired man eyed the men, nodded his head politely and said, "Bonum vesperam." _(Good evening)_

The men nodded.

"What do you want?" Nathaniel asked. Then he shook his head and asked again, "Quid vis?" That's when he suddenly noticed the man wasn't smiling anymore. Whatever pleasant expression he'd had before had been replaced with a blank slate stare that terrified him.

Eyeing each of the shapeshifters carefully, the man finally met Nathaniel's eyes one more time and said clearly in English, "Chaos."

* * *

Dean rose in the dark of night and headed down to the kitchen. He didn't know why, but he simply couldn't sleep. This was the second night he hadn't slept through, and if he didn't get an uninterrupted night soon, he was going to be useless in the field.

Last night Caleb had his private jet take Ethan and Elijah back to Houston. Ethan said he'd be in contact if his digital expert uncovered anything from the Cabaret's security cameras. Both men promised to be on call should the Triad need their help in finding out more about the mysterious man in the photo.

Since Caleb's jet was in use, Max had found some seats on a two-hour Untied red eye flight to New York late Sunday night. Since the price was good and the flight had no layovers, Max, James and JT decided to go, since they weren't needed anyway, James declared hotly.

"James," Dean had said in a measured tone.

When his father spoke his proper name in that quiet voice of steel, James always knew he'd gone too far. Sighing, he merely nodded his head, still too irked to do more.

But it was JT who pinned their father to the rail, eloquently expressing their displeasure and expectation without any semblance of disrespect. "I'll expect to hear from you in the next couple of days."

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes, but also refused to be drawn into a promise he may not be able to keep. "We'll see if anything comes up."

Sam almost grinned at the displays of Guardian maneuvering, but stopped himself from smiling. Caleb rolled his eyes and walked Ryker out, who was reluctantly heading home as he was expected to teach the next morning.

Relenting somewhat, Dean eyed the three young men and said, "I will call everyone in if the hunt warrants it. I promise."

After the boys had gone, Caleb and Onida as well as Joshua and his family decided to call it a night and head for home. And since Mary had flown back to New York with Josie in the early evening, only Sam had remained for the night.

Moving across the dark kitchen to the coffee maker, Dean's hand hovered over the pot. Unfortunately, he knew if he wanted even a prayer of returning to sleep, he couldn't have coffee. With a sigh he turned to the fridge and poured himself a glass of apple juice. Taking a drink, he walked through the library and entered the Tomb. When he was again in the hidden room behind the painting of Merlin, he looked in the fax tray and picked up the single sheet of paper lying inside. Jacob had written; _No government contracts to develop biochem weapons. No major companies or corporations conducting biochem weapon or subliminal tactics for mass testing in the US. Searching smaller companies now, but positive results unlikely. No information available on black Hennessey Venom. Consider the vehicle stolen or lifted from the manufacturer._

Dean nodded. They were already leaning on the side of a spell, and this looked like a definite push in that direction. He finished off his juice on the way back to the kitchen and placed the glass in the sink. Taking a seat at the table, he thought over everything they'd learned in the last week, and basically, it wasn't much. One: uncontrolled violence in select cities; Two: a black car was seen a handful of times; Three: there was a mysterious man driving the car; Four: a possible conspirator was driving a red corvette, and Five: they had a mystery box with no idea what was inside. How could they work with that?

Though the Brotherhood research team was still gathering information and Ethan had his tech cleaning up a digital recording, his gut told him the man in the black car was their target. Picking up the picture of the man beside the car, Dean studied it again. He'd figured out the man's physical dimensions and style, now he was studying the man. He was good at taking another person's measure; growing up he'd had to be. He'd needed to protect Sam and himself from CPS, nosy teachers, the law and the monsters. Those years had honed his young eyes, and he'd been good at judging a person ever since.

Even in the photo he could tell the man had a long gaze, like he was used to looking far into the distance. In their modern era most people had a short gaze, their vision distracted by signs, cars, movement. This man didn't see those things, he looked beyond them. Not that they weren't worth his notice; but he wasn't distracted by them. He was also comfortable with his height. He remembered all the times Sam would slouch when he got so tall, trying to conceal his height around much shorter classmates. This man owned his height. He was powerful and wore that power like he'd earned it … no, Dean thought, deserved it. The way he held himself all meant he was comfortable with himself, proud even. There was an elegance and assurance that spoke of old-world grace.

Old World.

Blinking, he didn't know why those words kept coming to mind, but he suddenly knew this man wasn't from their modern era. Everything about him said old, as in old in experience, not necessarily age despite his apparent white head. Pulling in a deep breath, he stared at the photo. "I may not know who you are," Dean murmured to the quiet room, "but I know I can track you." That's who he was; a tracker, always had been. He could track a monster pretty much anywhere. So where was _this_ monster?

Rising, he went back into the Tomb and retrieved the map with the circled cities. He would guess the man entered the United States from Canada through Maine, swung down from Kennebunkport into Baltimore then headed west, as the violence appeared to be going counter clockwise. He wrote that down, wondering whether the direction of the circle could help in figuring out what spell was being laid down. What was this guy doing? Joshua was right; there were hundreds of possibilities.

Dean eyed the line from Houston up to Mount Vernon. Had the man decided to check them out? If so, how did he find out about them? It's not like the Brotherhood was common knowledge. As a college-aged Riley had pointed out years before, the Brotherhood put the _secret_ in secret society. Maybe the man was merely heading up to Chicago. If he were using cities as hubs for his spell, he might have reconsidered using ones as small as Ashland and Rockland for the northern border. It was possible that after seeing Anaheim and Houston, he realized just how large cities in the United Sates could be, and decided to use Chicago rather than Ashland as a talised hub.

Dean studied the map. If this person was doing a spell of some sort, the circle would need to be closed. After leaving Houston, if the man's pattern of marking a city then moving a couple states before marking another was to be followed, his next destination would have to be Alabama or Georgia. He was betting Alabama, then North Carolina, and sealing the circle in New York.

Sitting back, his eyes went to Mount Vernon again, then down to New Haven. Though the Brotherhood wasn't known, his gut told him this guy had come to take a peek. Now it was his own turn to check this guy out. Let the hunt begin.

**.**

Sam stared at the darkened ceiling of his and Dean's old room, watching the shadows from the tree outside the window dance across the surface. Caleb had climbed that very tree to gain access to their room one October night when he was in high school. He thought he'd killed someone with his abilities and planned to run away. Eyes drifting to the tree and swaying branches, he thought of all the memories made and being made in this house.

A sound captured his attention, and his eyes went to the door. He knew it was Dean. Shifting his gaze to the small bedside clock, he saw that it was just after two in the morning. Instead of following his brother, he mulled over all they'd talked about the last couple of days. Somehow he didn't think violence was the motivation for their mysterious antagonist; more a result of implementing his unknown plan. The box was a huge clue, one he was eager to tackle. _Hidden_, talking about _mankind_, _wailing for knowledge gained_… What knowledge was gained? The syntax, verbiage all sounded like the lid was referencing historically early knowledge, ancient knowledge. Gaining knowledge was usually a good thing. So why did the box lid say _wailing for knowledge gained_? What kinds of knowledge were bad? With modern eyes he could say that several research projects through the decades had been bad, like the Nazi's experimenting on prisoners, America's dark history of doing medical research and experiments on disabled persons and prison inmates. Physics had some dark moments, like the creation of the atom bomb. But looking past individual instances of human darkness, a most obvious answer was that increasing ones knowledge of evil would be a bad thing: delving into the dark magical arts, practicing dark magic. Those were gains in knowledge that would elicit a wailing. Yet, considering his recent research into periods of violence in the world, evil had always been an aspect of humanity. The _wailing_ on the box lid seemed to be a universal wailing for knowledge gained rather than a wailing over mankind's violent disposition or a groups' discovery of an ancient evil.

Shifting on to his side, he stared at the outline of the tree. The last line on the lid said _Beware chaos_. Yes, chaos was usually never good, but sometimes chaos gave way to good. During chaotic circumstances, people often rose to the challenge, they stepped in, they helped one another. _Beware_ seemed to point to a specific instance of chaos. Maybe the knowledge gained they were wailing over. So then it followed that _Halt unlock_ could refer back to the instance of chaos the lid warned of. Maybe _Halt unlock_ didn't refer to the lid at all, but to unlocking the chaos in history. Brian said that last part meant _Do not open_. Would Elijah agree?

"Ugghh," Sam groaned, returning to lying on his back, he bunched his pillow and resettled his head. Too much of the lid remained hidden for him to make judgments at this point in time. He thought of the pictures of the black car and the man of mystery. He knew the car had been painted for stealth; any one of them could tell that. The matte back paint, a car low to the ground and much faster than the law allowed, speed wise. What drew the man to that type of car? Where had he purchased it? There was only one dealer for the Venoms in the United States, and that dealer was in Tennessee. He didn't see this man going all the way there just to get the Hennessey Venom. So, where did he get it, and why that car? It all went to who this man was, something Dean already had a very good handle on.

He rolled back onto his side and pulled the covers up around his chin. They were going to hunt him down, of that Sam was certain. Letting his eyes slide closed, he wondered what plan his brother was concocting.

**.**

Caleb stared at the US map spread across his kitchen table. Like the one at Dean's, the cities where the violence had taken place were circled on the map face. His gaze drifted from Mount Vernon Illinois, down to Louisville Kentucky and over to New Haven, and his hackles rose. The hunter in him had no doubt this man was checking out the Triad. Though this mysterious man had a larger objective in mind, he was also very interested in them, and in the Guardian.

"Caleb?"

Turning, Caleb saw Onida standing in the doorway, her hair held up by a heavy clip, yet still managing to fall in disarray around her sleepy shoulders. Stepping further into the kitchen, her eyes went to the map on the table. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to track the mystery man in the black car," Caleb sighed.

"It's four in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep," Caleb stated with a small smile.

Onida surveyed the map. "He's circling the country."

Caleb nodded. "Until Houston."

"Then he switches and goes north."

"Why?" Caleb asked, his eyes on Onida.

Onida stared at the map, at Mount Vernon, then jerked up to view Caleb. "He's coming after you."

"Maybe," Caleb said, dropping into a chair. "There was no violence in Mount Vernon, New Haven or Louisville. Maybe he was just checking us out."

"Does everyone know where the Triad lives?"

Caleb shook his head. "It's not general knowledge, but powerful people could find out."

"You think this person might be linked to a coven or a magical society of some sort."

Leaning forward and propping his elbow on the table, he said, "It's possible. Despite fighting evil for decades, it's not like the home of the Triad is common knowledge; most covens don't even know where we live. And we don't deal with secret or magical societies, as we have our in-house information sources."

"The Brotherhood doesn't consult?"

"Not usually," Caleb said. "Groups don't know about the Brotherhood."

"So," Onida said, sitting at the table. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, Sam's working to decipher the lid of that box David Lassiter found. I'm wondering if there are other boxes out there, and whether we can track them."

"The box isn't trackable," Onida stated.

Caleb looked up, frowning. "What? How do you know that?"

"It's cocobolo wood."

"I know that. Cocobolo wood is used to completely encase the most powerful magics and curses. But why can't we track the wood itself?"

"Because cocobolo wood is untrackable," Onida stated. When Caleb merely stared at her, she smiled. "Matter has a resonance, a frequency. In solid matter," she patted the table, "particles are packed so closely together they aren't free to move about within the substance. But that doesn't preclude a frequency. Cocobolo wood has no frequency."

Caleb stared at her a moment, then said, "You're so hot."

Onida looked startled for a moment, then she laughed. "Are you planning a change of location?" she asked, bobbing her eyebrows.

"What's wrong with the kitchen?"

Onida laughed again.

Caleb grinned. "All right, cocobolo wood can't be tracked. How does it appear on a psychic level, as a blank spot with frequencies vibrating around it?"

"I don't know. I suppose we can check that out tomorrow."

Nodding slowly, Caleb said, "If cocobolo wood can't be located because of a lack of frequency, is the frequency inside untrackable?"

Onida nodded. "That's what cocobolo wood does."

Caleb nodded and sighed. "Yeah. Okay." Eyes back on the map, he said, "If we surmise the guy in the car is making a circle around the US, and he jogged up here to take a peek at the Triad, then I think he needs to get back on task. So after Houston, where would have been his next stop?"

"He went from Anaheim to Houston, right?"

"Maybe," Caleb said, eyeing the expanse between Anaheim and Houston. Running a finger through Arizona and New Mexico, he said, "It's possible there was a stop along here. Not a major city, but a smaller one like Ashland or Rockland. Both are towns with a small population. The bigger cities are the anchors for whatever he's doing."

Onida looked up. "How do you know that?"

"Experience," Caleb said. "But if he's getting back on track, I think he'll hit a smaller city somewhere in Alabama or Georgia, then a larger city again in North Carolina or Virginia, then New York."

"You expect him to go to New York?"

"There's isn't a more major city on the East Coast than New York."

"But Anaheim isn't the largest city in California. Wouldn't he hit a smaller city on the East Coast too?"

"Anaheim is the most visited city in California, one of the top tourist destinations in the United States. When you count that it's the major city in Orange County, that's saying something."

Onida nodded.

Suddenly, Caleb yawned.

"Come on," Onida said. "Let's get some sleep. Then tomorrow we can see if a lack of frequency can be tracked."

Caleb rose and smiled, saying, "I'm betting that it can."

"We'll see," Onida said, "We'll see."

**.**

Despite getting only a couple hours of sleep, Dean was back in the kitchen staring at the map before seven Monday morning. He was going to track this mystery man, and that meant getting on the road today. He frowned at the map. "Alabama," he said to himself. The man would use major highways and hit the clubs under the cover of darkness. Where would he sleep? Higher end hotels. This guy liked his comforts.

"What are you doing?"

Dean looked up to see Sam entering the kitchen. His brother made a beeline to the coffee pot. Smiling, he said, "Morning. Trying to track our mystery man."

Sam sat down at the table, a mug of coffee held in both hands. Sipping, he smiled and sighed.

Dean grinned. Shaking his head, he went over to the pot to warm his own coffee.

After imbibing some life-giving brew, Sam opened his eyes and focused on the map. After a moment he leaned over, asking, "How do you plan on tracking him?"

"He's going from small cities to larger ones, I'm thinking larger at the four cardinal points and smaller in between."

Sam stared at the map. "You think he chose Anaheim as the western point, and Houston at the Southern. But why not a huge city in the north?"

"I don't think he realized there were bigger cities until he got to California."

Sam frowned. He knew Dean had a good sense of this guy, but he asked anyway, "I get that city size is relative to where someone grew up. But why wouldn't he know about large cities?"

Dean shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure, but somehow I get the feeling this guy isn't familiar with just how large this country is. I think he got a good look when he hit California. Orange County has over three million people. Houston has two-point-three million."

"Maybe he was just hitting his stride with the smaller cities, and bigger isn't better," Sam suggested.

Allowing himself the moment of levity, Dean grinned and said, "Bigger is always better."

Sam gave a snort. "What you're thinking, is that he's re-evaluated his definition of a large city anchoring whatever he's doing, and that's why he veered north, to pick a bigger city like Chicago."

Dean shrugged. "It's possible."

"Maybe. But if he's driving west from Baltimore, he'd have gone right through Columbus and Indianapolis. And if he's choosing a city on the northern border, a better choice would have been Minneapolis-St. Paul." Sam pulled up a map of the largest cities in the Unites States on his computer and turned the screen around for Dean to see. "If he's hitting border states, he'd choose Michigan rather than Illinois."

"He may be going for the largest cities," Dean shook his head. "This is all speculation. We don't know exactly what he's doing. But we do know he has gone around the US until he hit Houston, and I think he'll go back to finishing his route."

"Just in case, we should tell David he may be heading to Chicago. If he's going for size, Chicago is the third largest city in the United States."

"I emailed him this morning. He'll be on the alert."

Sam nodded, his eyes going back to the map. "So, you want to track him."

"Yeah. We have some idea of what cities attract this guy. I'll check them out."

"We'll hit mid-size cities with large clubs and bars," Sam said, making sure the _we_ was noted by his brother.

"Exactly," Dean said, ignoring Sam pointed inclusion of himself in the plan. Two could play that game. "Just because this guy isn't a monster in the classic sense, doesn't mean he isn't trackable. We already know what cities he's interested in. The picture gives us clues on who he is; the well fitting clothes, the arrogant demeanor, the expensive car. He could have driven any of a hundred cars, much less conspicuous cars. But instead he chose an exclusive sports car, one that's worth several hundred thousand dollars."

"Most of the violence has taken place in bars and clubs because that's where he can get lost," Sam interrupted. "That's where he can work without being seen, because those places are filled with people _trying_ to be seen."

Dean watched his brother a moment, before saying, "I'll have Mark run the shop the next couple days. I thought I'd leave this morning."

"You…"

Suddenly the phone rang on the wall, and Dean jumped to get it so Juliet wouldn't be woken up so early. "Yeah?"

"Dean, Dean, he was here, in Chicago."

"Lassiter?"

"Yes!" David sounded ragged and worn. "He killed my people, he killed my people!"

"David, calm down." Dean heard sharp, raspy breathing as Lassiter tried to regain some control. "Tell me what happened."

"I got your email this morning, but it was too late," Lassiter said. "He was already here. He found out what we were, he did…"

Dean gave his head a quick shake, frowning. "David, start at the beginning. Tell me what happened."

Sam was now standing by his side, trying to hear the conversation.

David took a huge breath, then said, "I got a call from Nathaniel Bowman. He's a shapeshifter on the force at Chicago PD."

"He's a cop?" Sam said, leaning in.

"That was Sam," Dean clarified, giving his brother an exasperated look.

"Yes. Shapeshifters are woven into the fabric of Chicago," David relayed, as though explaining something so mundane would help him reclaim his control. "Law enforcement, the DAs Office, Fire Department, water, transit; we live, work and breathe Chicago." He paused as his voice shook slightly. Clearing his throat, he went on; "So, Nate was on patrol and he saw the black Hennessey parked downtown. He called it in, then gave me a ring. When we were talking, the man showed up and blew something in Nate's face."

Dean frowned and shook his head. "How do you know that?"

"Nate told me. He was the only one left alive."

"David, I'm sorry."

"They were all from old families," David said, a catch in his voice. "Four men I've known my whole life. It's…"

"A tragedy," Sam supplied, leaning in close to the mouthpiece.

"Yes." There was a moment of silence, then David cleared his throat again.

"Brian?" Dean interjected. The ancient languages specialist had been sitting on his coach just yesterday, geeking out about the languages on the box lid.

"No, Brian wasn't there."

Dean nodded.

"Good," Sam murmured. He'd felt a connection to a fellow professor.

"On the way home yesterday, I'd ordered ultrasonic transmitters for each of my people in the field," David said. "The devise was set to our cell frequency, thanks to Onida. Nate's was on. He said he couldn't move for a moment after the man blew the powder in his face, then he focused on the resonance and his cells stabilized. I guess the man wasn't expecting that. Nate subdued him and zip-tied his hands behind his back."

"Really?"

Dean stepped back, glaring at Sam. "David? I'm putting this call on speaker, all right?"

"Oh … yeah, that's fine," David murmured.

Dean did so, and he and Sam sat back at the table. "Go on."

"Nate grabbed his dropped phone when suddenly the guy was free. Just then the team I'd sent to back Nate up arrived." There was silence for a moment, then David said, "All I could hear were the screams."

Dean and Sam stared at one another.

"When I got there, they were just lying there like…" David's voice broke off.

"You don't have to do this," Sam said, compassion in his voice.

"I do," David stated, his voice tight. "I do. They were my friends. What he did… What he did to them was unconscionable."

"What did he do?" Dean asked in a measured tone.

"He ripped all their cells apart," David declared. "They couldn't hold any form until all they had left was their minds, then he tore that apart too." His voice failed him as he gave a choked cough.

Sam stared at Dean a moment before saying, "You said Nathaniel was the only one left alive. What happened to him?"

They waited for David to get himself under control. "He said … he said the man did the same thing to him. And then, right before he died, the man repaired all his cells so he would live."

"What?" Dean shook his head. "Why would he do that?"

"_How_ did he do that?" Sam interjected.

"Nathaniel said the man told him those who respect law and order would be valued in his world."

"Valued in his world," Dean repeated slowly. "I guess that means some other world than this one."

"Whoever this guy is, I believe he plans on making over this world," David stated. "He's powerful, more powerful than I would have thought. Before the murders, Nate asked him what he wanted…" David voice broke off.

"And what did he say?" Dean asked, but already knowing the answer.

"Chaos."

Sam looked at Dean and quoted softly, "_You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star._"

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Nietzsche," David said, "Friedrich Nietzsche." After a moment of silence, he said, "I need to prepare the funerals, give comfort to the families and check in on Nathaniel. He's wrecked. Get this guy," he urged, desperation in his voice. "End him. And if you need anything, call."

There was silence at the table after the phone call ended, each man lost in his own thoughts.

Finally Sam said, "I'm coming with you."

"You're working on translating the lid to the box."

Sam nodded. "And I still will, from the car. There's nothing I can do here that I can't do in a moving vehicle. We both know that from experience."

Dean suddenly didn't want Sam to come. David Lassiter's phone call had shaken him to his core. Shapeshifters weren't some namby-pamby member of the monster world. They were strong, fierce and cunning. It seemed this man had taken them apart easily.

"And no," Sam stated, correctly interpreting the look on Dean's face, "I'm not staying here. Neither is Caleb."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Their cells were ripped apart," Sam said, frowning. "You think whoever did that used magic to kill them?"

Dean nodded. "I don't know what else would."

"Ultrasonic resonators," Sam murmured.

"What?"

"Ultrasonic resonators. David said he bought his people ultrasonic resonators to help them keep their shape, so that something like what happened to him wouldn't happen to them. Resonance has the power to convert sound waves into pressure. That could have collapsed all their cells."

"David said that the man did that to Nate, then healed him."

Sam nodded. "He has a knowledge of physics as well as sorcery. That means Joshua needs to come with us too."

"Really?" Dean huffed. "This went from me going, to me and you, now it's a guy's road trip."

"Not really. Joshua won't ride in your car," Sam pointed out, smiling.

"We're still on the same road going in the same direction," Dean declared. After a moment, he shook his head and sighed.

"What?"

"I don't want to take Josh away from Nicholas. He needs him."

"I know. But he's the one with the magical creds."

"But he doesn't need to come right now," Dean stated. "All we're doing is trying to track this guy. I don't plan on confronting him without a damn good plan."

"Joshua isn't going to like us going without him."

"I don't like you going," Dean said. "We need to know what's inside that box."

"And I said I'd work on it in the car," Sam declared. "Alison and her team will be working on it too."

"In addition to searching the social media records, we're asking her to work on the box," Dean observed. "Looks like we're going to be paying some overtime again."

Sam chuckled. "Looks like." Standing, he said, "I'm going to make arrangements for someone to take my classes this week."

"Are you sure about that?" Dean asked, concerned. Sam had worked so hard to get where he was. He didn't want his job to be in jeopardy.

"I've got tenure," Sam said with a smile. "And my classes are very popular. The law department has grown twenty-nine percent in the last twelve years. Having an in depth knowledge of the law as well as intimate familiarity with law breaking makes for enlightening teaching. The Brotherhood comes first, and you know, this type of thing hasn't happened very often, where I'm gone for a week or so. They won't be happy, but they'll deal."

Dean knew his brother was valued by the University. "Yeah, okay. I'll give Caleb a call."

"Dean, it's before eight. Go get some sleep and I'll call him later. We leave at noon."

Dean rose and griped, "Who made you road trip leader?"

Sam just smiled and walked out of the kitchen.

Dean leaned over and refolded the map. Looked like they were headed to Alabama.

* * *

Onida sat in the living room at the farm, staring at the box. She and Caleb had come over around ten-thirty, Caleb with his duffel packed, to Sam's amusement. Now Caleb and Dean were in the kitchen going over the map, and Onida was trying to find out if there was any way they could track cocobolo wood boxes. After a long moment, she sat back. "I'm not sensing anything."

Sam leaned forward and said, "You sense energy and magnetics, right?"

Onida nodded.

"Can you sense the reverse?"

"Like a lack of energy?" Onida asked. "Caleb suggested looking for that, but I don't sense a nothingness either. It's just as though the box weren't there."

"I mean, more an inhaling of energy," Sam stated.

Tilting her head, Onida frowned. "A what?"

"All space and time has a resonance, an energy. Cocobolo wood completely shields and encases whatever is put inside. So that must mean it's a dampener, or it neutralizes energy. Don't search for a blank spot; search for something that is active, but neutralizing rather than emanating it."

"I'm not sure I see the difference between a blank spot and nothing neutralizing energy," Onida stated carefully. "And I'm not sure I know how to do that."

"All you can do is try," Sam said with smile.

"Fine, Onida said, "here goes…" Closing her eyes, she focused on the box and imagined energy around it. After a moment, she opened her eyes and tried to see the colors of energy and where they were going. Suddenly, she gasped. Small neutrons of light were there, then they simply disappeared. "Oh…" she murmured, watching as minute particles of energy were gliding around and disappearing. "Isn't that interesting."

"Something?" Caleb asked, coming in from the kitchen followed by Dean.

"Yes. It's very small, but tiny energy particles are floating around, and just disappearing around where the box is."

Dean frowned. "I thought cocobolo wood prevented whatever was inside the box from emitting, holding or expelling."

Sam grinned at what Dean had said. He always found it amusing when Dean used scientific terminology. "It's supposed to completely encase whatever is inside."

"And it's doing that," Onida said. "I'm not sure what exactly is happening, but minute light particles are disappearing when they get near the box."

"Disappearing where?" Caleb asked.

"I don't know," Onida mused. "Maybe Sam's right, in that the box is neutralizing everything around it, both inside and out."

"Has cocobolo wood always had that ability?" Caleb asked, dropping down beside Onida.

"I've never studied cocobolo wood, so don't know how it usually interacts with energy on the particulate or molecular level," Onida stated. "All I know is that energy particles are undetectable when they get near this box."

"Energy can't be created or destroyed," Sam said slowly. "Cocobolo wood doesn't destroy the objects inside. If energy particles are disappearing when they get near the box, then either the box is rerouting the particles ... or absorbing them."

"Cocobolo wood doesn't absorb energy," Caleb argued. "It contains all manner of curses and magical objects. If it didn't do that, it wouldn't be useful to the magical world."

"Unless whatever is in the box can't be contained," Dean said slowly.

Onida eyed Dean, then looked over at Caleb and Sam and stated the obvious; "It is in the box."

"It's in the box _now_," Dean said.

Caleb frowned. "I've never heard of anything that cocobolo wood couldn't contain."

"Maybe this is a first," Sam said.

No one spoke for a minute as that statement sank in. Finally Caleb got them off the speculation trail and asked Onida, "Can you track these boxes if there are any more out there?"

Onida shook her head. "These particles are tiny. I can barely sense them now, and I'm sitting right next to the box."

"But now that you know they're there…?"

"They're just too small," Onida said. "We don't even know if there are other boxes out there, and the whole country is a large place to search for something I can barely detect right here in front of me."

"What if Joshua could somehow enhance the particles so you could sense them?" Sam asked.

"Can he do that?"

"I don't know," Sam said, "but we can ask."

* * *

"No," Joshua stated firmly. "You're not going anywhere to deal with a Sorcerer if I'm not there."

"And we won't," Dean said. "All we're doing now is tracking him, and that's going to be a hit and miss proposition."

"Not for you," Joshua declared huffily. "You're the best tracker the Brotherhood has ever had."

Dean felt his face flush. Joshua had not said that as a compliment, but to support his argument, and that made him appreciate it even more. Of course, Caleb wasn't pleased.

"Hey!" Caleb declared, looking offended.

Joshua rolled his eyes. "You're very good too."

Caleb huffed at the offhand comment. "That wasn't convincing."

"This isn't about who's on first," Joshua snapped.

Dean looked at Caleb. "You have way too much influence on your brother."

"And I'm not going to be diverted," Joshua stated. "I should be going, so I am."

"You're not right now," Dean said. "You're going to stay here with Nicholas, and Caleb's Hawker will fly you to wherever we are in a hurry." Seeing Joshua still looking mutinous, he continued, "I'm not planning on confronting this guy. He's too powerful."

That got Joshua's attention. "How do you know that?"

Dean lifted a manila folder. "This is everything I've deduced about this guy so far."

Joshua took the folder, opened it and started skimming the pages. Some of it he'd already seen, some was new. Looking up, he said, "You're sure? From that one picture?"

"As I can be," Dean said. "You know I read people, have had to my whole life. That's what I think about this guy. I need you to collaborate with Adam, Odette, anyone you can trust to see if they've heard about someone powerful planning something. I also want you putting together your most powerful spells and wards. This guy took apart five shapeshifters cell by cell so fast, they couldn't fight back. Then he healed one of them. This isn't someone to be messed with. I don't know how powerful he is, but I want us armed to the teeth with as much as you've got, and anything with Triad magic you've been experimenting with."

Joshua's face had paled slightly. "You think he's that powerful."

Dean stepped a foot closer, his face intent when he asked, "Who is the most powerful Sorcerer you've ever known?"

"Malachi Harris," Joshua said in a hushed tone.

"That powerful."

Joshua felt his insides quake.

"I've never heard of anyone who can do what this guy did to David's people. Have you?"

"Other than Harris? No."

Caleb stepped forward. "We need anything you can come up with to protect us, but also something that can be used to defeat him. We also need you to work with Onida to see if you can enhance her ability to sense the box David Lassiter found."

Joshua felt like his head was spinning. "You think there are more of these boxes out there."

Dean nodded. "And it's possible that whatever is inside might not stay in there forever."

"Won't stay…" Joshua sputtered. "Cocobolo wood encases all manner of dangerous magical artifacts."

"From what Onida saw this morning, we think it's possible that whatever is inside _this_ box is absorbing energy from the outside," Caleb stated.

Joshua sighed. "All right," he said. "I'm pulling in Adam, and if he thinks it's prudent, I'll see if I can bring in Odette. She'll know if there's anything unusual on the magical grapevine. We'll work to gather and enhance any magical protections and weapons we have, and we'll work with Onida to see if there's a way to enhance the energy around the box. But when I get armed, I'm coming to wherever you are whether you like it or not," he declared, directing the statement at Dean. "I am the Advisor to the Triad of the Brotherhood, and my place is with you." Looking around, he finally asked, "By the way, where's Sam?"

Caleb chuckled. "He went home to pack a duffel. We're picking him up after we leave here."

Pounding feet heralded the entrance of a small boy, who dodged around Caleb and flung himself into Dean's arms.

"Oohhh," Dean groaned, lifting Nicholas into his arms. "Is it break time at school?"

Nicholas nodded, then looked around as Maisie and Lucas came into the kitchen for their morning snack.

Joshua picked up a tray of granola bars and apple slices from the kitchen counter and placed it on the table.

Dean gave Nicholas a hug, then set him on the floor. "I'm going away for a few days, okay?"

Nicholas' face fell, but he nodded.

"But I'm coming back, all right?"

Nicholas nodded. "Back."

"Yes, back."

"Come on, Nicholas," Joshua said, taking the child's hand and leading him over to the table. "Let's get you a snack, then it's back to school. After lunch we'll have free time in the yard. Ted and Maxie want to see you."

The puppies were in the corner, yapping and dancing on their small hind legs.

Dean held out his hand to Joshua and said, "We'll keep in touch every couple of hours. Track Sam's cell phone so you can keep up with where we're at. Caleb has the Hawker standing by at Bowman Field, ready for takeoff at a moment's notice. Get whatever information you can and gather what you need. I have a feeling we're going to need everything you've got."

"I'll see you in a day or so," Joshua promised. "This man may be powerful, but he isn't better than the Triad."

"And their Advisor," Dean added.

Joshua smiled and nodded.

* * *

Dean pulled up in front of Sam's house and waited for his brother.

"You think this one is going to be bad, don't you?" Caleb stated softly.

Dean glanced over at his best friend and Knight, and gave a solemn nod. "Something about this guy, the way he stood there by the car, his manner, the strength of his stance … it gave off power, confidence, someone who gets what he wants." Turning, he stared out the front of the Impala, watching the traffic, seeing a man walking his dog down the street, watching the mail truck stop by the mailbox a couple houses away and place letters in the box. Everyday human activities done by everyday people. This man wanted to change that, he wanted to change the world. "I think this is a very dangerous man."

The front door opened and Sam stepped out, his computer bag over his shoulder, his duffel in his hand. Locking the front door, he jogged down his short front steps and opened the back door. "Hey," he said, climbing in.

Caleb looked around, and knowing Sam usually rode in the front seat whenever he was in the Impala, said, "I thought you'd rather spread out in the back, since you're going to be working on translating the lid of the box."

Sam smiled. "Thanks."

Dean looked between Caleb and Sam, and said, "All right, Gentlemen. We've got eight hours until we reach Jackson Mississippi, city of just under two hundred thousand."

"Madeline Riley created a program and linked it to the transit cameras of Mississippi to see if it can get a glimpse of the Hennessey," Sam said. "She's working on linking the program to Alabama and Georgia now. It's going to take some time, as she needs to use the transit program's backdoor so she won't get caught."

"Will the states see the program?" Caleb asked.

Sam shook his head. "No. And the program is set to dissolve itself in three days. Hopefully we'll have caught up with our mystery man by then." Eyeing the other two men, he said, "What routes do you plan on using?"

"Though I don't expect to find him on the road," Dean said, "we're going to be using a combination of Interstates and States Highways. I'm betting this guy doesn't use rural roads, not in that car."

"Then let's hit it," Caleb said, his face grim. "I want to see what the hell is going on."

Dean turned the key and the Impala roared to life. _Come on, Baby_, he thought. _Let's see what we can catch._

* * *

After Dean and Caleb left and Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas were back in class, Joshua slowly cleaned up the children's snack dishes. Instead of loading them in the dishwasher, he washed them by hand, using the methodical task as time to think. He didn't like Dean, Caleb and Sam going up against what he truly believed was a Crafter without him. Then again, if this man was as powerful as Malachi Harris, it made sense that preparations needed to be made.

Malachi Harris. That was a name they hadn't spoken in years, not since he had been killed by their Triad at the Barnwell Mansion, forcing Joshua to relocate his wedding to the farm. But in truth, he hadn't minded the change one bit. Being married to Carolyn in a place that meant family, history, tradition and brotherhood had been cathartic for him. It heralded a brighter future than his strained and painful past, trying to be something he wasn't. Dean, Caleb and Sam all accepted him for exactly who he was, and it was a gift.

Malachi Harris had been Advisor to Daniel Wilmington's Triad back in the late nineteenth century. He'd been responsible for the deaths of Daniel and his Knight Cole Tanner, leaving the Scholar Samuel Colt to pick up the pieces and realign the Brotherhood. Harris had been an extremely powerful and experienced witch. But when he'd come back to the twenty-first century as a demon, their Triad had taken him down, and they would take down this new threat.

Hanging up the dishtowel, Joshua went into his study and made a call to Odette Harris. If anyone could keep a confidence, it was her. She was also a massive source of information. She heard everything, saw everything, and because she rarely spoke, people said things around her they wouldn't have said around anyone else. She was practically the Phantom of the coven world.

"Yes?"

"Odette, this is Joshua. I need some help; confidential help."

"Go on."

Joshua smiled at the clipped tone. "Someone is creating a spell, a massive circle around the country. Have you heard anything about a new witch in the country?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a time before Odette said, "Whispers."

Joshua felt his heart speed up. "Anything you can share?"

There was another silence.

When Odette didn't look like she was going to comment, Joshua decided to reveal a bit more. "You've heard about the violence in Houston?"

"Yes."

"We think he's responsible for that and much more."

Again, there was nothing. Just when Joshua was about to say thank you and hang up, Odette said, "Someone entered through Maine."

"Yes," Joshua said with an inward sigh. That was practically a monologue for Odette. "Kennebunkport experienced an upheaval." When Odette didn't add anything, he had to strenuously force down his irritation and bring to mind that Odette's reticent nature was precisely why she was a valuable source of information, even if he had to pry it from her word by word. "Do you know where he is now?"

"No."

"Do you know if he has allied himself with a coven?" Again, there was silence, and Joshua didn't know if that was because she didn't know, or she didn't want to compromise another coven. Sighing, he said, "All right. If you hear anything that can lead us to stopping him, please let me know."

Another silence followed, and just when Joshua was about to hang up, Odette said, "Mayhem," and hung up.

Joshua frowned. Mayhem? They already knew this guy was creating mayhem and violence across the country. But Odette knew about Houston, and she wouldn't have said that word without a very specific reason. Reaching up to the spell book on his shelf, he began searching for spells that enhanced violence. There weren't a lot, as most spells didn't have such a non-specific target as _violence_. After reading through the few that had side effects of violence, he took notes and made lists of ingredients, but wasn't convinced any of them were what this mystery person was doing. Most didn't even require a circle.

He hadn't realized how long he'd been in the study until he heard light sneakers on tile and turned just in time to see Nicholas peeking around the door. Smiling, he rose and said, "Lunchtime all ready? I didn't even make sandwiches yet." Nicholas ran in and hugged Joshua around the waist. "You know what this means, don't you?'

Nicholas looked up into Joshua's face, his own blue eyes smiling.

"I think it means we go out for hamburgers."

Nicholas bounced on his toes in excitement. "Puppies?"

"Hmmm, that presents a problem. Most places don't allow puppies in their restaurants." Leaning down, Joshua said, "How about we get hamburgers and bring them back here. That way we can get something for Ted and Maxie too."

Nicholas grinned and nodded.

"Go get your coat, and tell Ms. Stein we're going out."

Nicholas nodded and ran out of the study.

Joshua started for the door, then stopped and pulled out his cell. After a moment, he said, "Adam? Are you free to come over for a bit? I need your help and advice."

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Let's hit the road!_


	11. Chapter 11

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 11

.

Dean, Caleb and Sam entered Mississippi through Olive Branch and drove south toward Jackson. While both Caleb and Dean felt the mystery man would have earmarked Alabama as his next stop, all three had agreed to check out the largest city in Mississippi before heading east toward Mobile.

Caleb and Dean had done most of the driving since they'd left Louisville, with Sam working on the box translation in the backseat. Though Dean wasn't expecting to see the black Hennessey on the road, he couldn't help scanning the freeway as he drove, alert for the ebony sports car. Caleb also had been vigilantly searching the passing traffic hoping for a glimpse. After ten long hours of travel, it was after nine at night when they pulled into a truck stop outside Jackson. Dean immediately peeled himself out of the front seat and began fueling the car while Caleb went inside the convenience store for coffee.

Sam climbed slowly from the car, stretching and groaning.

"Got anything?" Dean asked. Sam had taken a break from translation duties to make a list of clubs and bars in Jackson.

"Yeah," Sam moaned, his arms in the air as he leaned back in a long stretch. Finally, he pulled his computer from the backseat. "There are a lot of clubs, but most of them appear to be clustered in the downtown area. Want to check them all?"

"Might as well," Dean mumbled through a yawn. "We're here."

Sam glanced at his watch. "It'll probably take a couple of hours to maneuver through the club traffic in order to check the buildings. You want to spend the night here or head over to Alabama?"

The gas pump clicked off, and Dean returned the nozzle. "It's a three hour drive from here to Mobile," he said. Checking his watch, he silently calculated the time they needed to check the clubs then drive on. "It'll put us there at around three in the morning, but I'd rather we headed on to Alabama."

Caleb walked up with three cups of coffee and handed them around.

Sam took his gratefully, downed a couple of sips before he winced at the thick blackness of the brew. "We're spending the night in Mobile."

"Makes sense," Caleb said, pulling his cell from his pocket to search for a hotel. "We'll get there late, but we can sleep until nine or so, then make a thorough check of the cities we've earmarked. It only takes five hours to cross the entire state."

"Searching the cities adds a lot of time to that five hours," Sam remarked.

"But we can still cover it in a day," Dean remarked. "Once we've cleared Alabama, we'll head on to North Carolina."

"Why North Carolina?" Sam asked. "Why not South Carolina or Virginia? Virginia would be a better midpoint between here and New York."

Dean shrugged. "A feeling, mainly. I think he'll pass up Georgia and South Carolina and stop in Charlotte, Greenville or Raleigh."

"I thought he might have hit a few smaller towns in between his big firework locations of Anaheim and Houston," Caleb said, looking up from his phone. "But I checked Arizona and New Mexico thoroughly; no evidence of violence on that level was found. If he stopped anywhere, it was like Mount Vernon; no footprint."

"Plus there's methodology to creating a spell," Sam added.

"There is," Caleb said. "Based on the cities hit and the circling of the country, Josh speculates this guy is laying a spell, and I'd place a bet on Josh's instincts."

Sam nodded, yawning. His brother had a much better sense of who this guy was than either him or Caleb, and Caleb had a Knight's instinct as to where he would go. While they were all expert trackers, his main concern was the box, so he would leave the tracking on this hunt to them.

Dean smiled, as though he knew what his brother was thinking. "How's the box coming?"

"Pretty good," Sam said, leaning against the car. "I think I have the four lines in the middle of the lid translated. Next it'll be translating the images in the four corners, then the glyphs between the lines. Last will be the symbols along the bottom."

"So … a ways to go then, huh?" Caleb stated.

Sam gave the Knight the finger.

Caleb laughed. "You check in with Alison?"

"I emailed her what I've done so far. She's double checking my results and still has a team working on the other symbols. Trouble is, many ancient language symbols have a lot of similarities. So it's exacting work to narrow it down to the right one."

Nodding, Caleb slipped his cell back into his jacket pocket, saying, "I've made a reservation at the Homewood Suites."

"Not the Hilton?" Sam exclaimed, giving Caleb a mock-scandalized look.

"The Homewood Suites is a Hilton property," Caleb stated.

Dean and Sam exchanged humorous glances.

"You two chuckleheads ready to hit the clubs?" Caleb quipped as he climbed back into the front seat of the Impala.

"We are now," Sam remarked.

"Let's get it done," Dean said, sliding back into the driver's seat and gunning the engine.

**.**

They'd had no luck finding a black Hennessey Venom at any of the clubs in Jackson Mississippi. It had taken a little under two hours to check outside the noisiest of the hot spots. Those were the ones Dean believed the man would be drawn to, rather than the more sedate or relaxed venues. There was anonymity in a crowd. When they'd finished checking around the last club, they pulled onto US 49 heading southeast towards Mobile. Despite a loose adherence to the speed limit, it was still close to three in the morning before they pulled into the parking lot of the Homewood Suites by Hilton.

Checking in so late would have problematic anywhere else, but the front desk personnel at the Homewood Suites were warm and – according to Dean – unnaturally awake. However, they were efficient and had the three checked in and settled in their plush rooms very quickly. Caleb insisted on ordering room service from the limited twenty-four hour menu. Within a half hour Dean was staring down at a thick turkey sandwich with a side of slightly wilted fruit. While it wasn't a burger, he decided he'd better eat. They hadn't had anything in their stomachs but coffee for several hours, so some sustenance was needed, even if he'd rather have just gone to bed. Talk was sparse, as they were all tired after such a long day. Eventually Dean went off to grab a shower and turn in. Sam pushed the meal remnants away and spread his papers out next to his computer. He wanted to see whether Alison's team corroborated his findings on the box lid text.

Caleb rose. "Go to bed, Sam. That box will still be there in the morning."

"I will," Sam said, his eyes on his computer screen. "I just want to check my email, see if Alison sent any corroboration for my translation."

"It would still be there in the morning," Caleb stated, heading for his room.

"It is morning," Sam said with a smile.

"See you in a few hours," Caleb said, closing his door. Once inside, he looked down at his cell. It was almost four, and he didn't want to wake Onida. Gently he reached out with his mind, and a moment later the phone rang. If Onida had been deeply asleep, his gentle touch wouldn't have woken her up. Obviously, she was waiting to hear from him. He smiled when he heard her sleepy voice.

"Hey. How's the road trip?"

"Long and dirty," Caleb said wryly. "How are you and Joshua doing on finding the boxes?"

"We're just getting started, but not great so far. Creating a spell to help me find particles of energy only lets me find lots of particles of energy, like _all_ of them. When I tried it, it was like a million Fourth of July light shows. I thought my eyes were burning out."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Onida said, smiling at the anxious concern she heard in Caleb's voice. "Adam and Joshua are working to tone it down, but I don't know how they can get a spell specific enough to focus solely on energy attaching itself to cocobolo wood."

Caleb frowned. He hadn't thought of the situation like that. "Doesn't sound like it can be done."

"Possibly not. The world is full of particles of energy. But since they're willing to try, I am too. We're spit-balling other ways to track the boxes, if there are more."

"Thank you for helping us out on this."

"I'm using my training in new ways," Onida stated. "I'm thrilled."

Caleb chuckled.

"We were going to Washington next week. Lomasi and Jacy have their lessons. Should I reschedule?"

"I don't know, but I hope not. Let's wait a couple days, make the decision then."

"Sounds good. Now you, get in bed. I may visit you there."

Caleb grinned. "I'm on my way."

Light spilled through his body as Caleb smiled at his silent cell phone. Quickly he headed to the bathroom for a brief shower. Suddenly the bed didn't seem as empty as it had a few moments before.

**.**

After getting almost six hours of sleep, it was just after ten when breakfast was delivered to their room. Caleb ate quickly and started gathering their duffels, piling them on the sofa near the door while Sam and Dean finished up.

Sam gave Caleb a slightly disgruntled look and said, "You look far too rested and pleased with yourself. Onida give you good dreams?"

"And you look grumpy and irritated," Caleb countered. "I told you to get some sleep."

"At least I wasn't having dream sex," Sam sniped, then huffed out an annoyed breath when Caleb burst out laughing.

Dean grinned over at his brother and said, "We so need to get you hooked up."

"Since when are you a matchmaker?" Sam demanded, hoping to derail the conversation surrounding his love life before it went any further. He shouldn't have stuck his foot in his mouth.

Caleb caught on to that, though, and said to Dean, "Misdirection. He's trying to get us away from talking about his love life."

"Or lack thereof," Dean added.

"Thereof?" Sam echoed, a sense of desperation in his voice. "Seriously?"

Dean gave Caleb a sidelong look and took pity on his brother. "We should check out the hotels."

Sam frowned. "You think he might be sleeping?"

"After driving for somewhere in the vicinity of fifteen hours, if he didn't stop for the night already, I'm thinking anyone would want a shower and a bed."

"And it's too early for the clubs," Caleb stated, his eyes on his phone. "There are several hotels in Mobile. You want to check them all?"

Dean thought back to the picture, the elegance of the man's clothes, the Hennessey. "Stick to the high end hotels, upper-middle to be safe." After another moment of thought, he said, "Focus on Bed and Breakfasts."

Caleb frowned. "Bed and Breakfasts? Why?"

"Something about the Old World vibe I get from him," Dean said thoughtfully. "I think he'd be more comfortable in a place that's homey, cozy. Not a crowded, impersonal hotel."

"The Hilton is not impersonal," Caleb defended his accommodation of choice.

"They're manned by Stepford people in the early morning hours," Dean muttered under his breath as he shrugged into his jacket.

"Professionalism isn't Stepford to any normal person," Caleb retorted, scrolling through a list of high-end hotels on his cell.

Dean merely snorted softly and hefted his duffel. Soon they were back in the car and heading to the upper end hotels in the downtown Mobile area. After checking the Bed and Breakfasts nearer the coast and the midline hotels near the airport, they drove on to Montgomery, Tuscaloosa and Birmingham, repeating the process in each city.

It was after six in the evening when Caleb demanded they stop and get something to eat. "I don't want a convenience store burrito or a stale sandwich," he stated. "I want a meal sitting down in a restaurant."

"I agree," Sam said quickly. His stomach hadn't done too well after the burrito at the Love's truck stop.

Dean merely nodded and turned into a Cracker Barrel on the left side of US 65 outside Birmingham. Though he would rather have pushed on toward Huntsville Alabama, he could admit his stomach would prefer a hot meal rather than a fast food burger.

Caleb sighed as he climbed from the car. A higher end restaurant would have been more welcome, but he thanked his lucky stars Dean was willing to stop at all. In their own ways they could each be hunt myopic. Keeping an eye on one another and preserving a hunt-rest balance was a necessity. Seated at their table inside, he said, "I checked my email, and Ethan sent over a picture from the Viceroy Club." Touching the screen of his cell, Caleb brought up a grainy photo. "It's not very good, but you can see this guy is tall, and he's got light or white hair." He showed the picture to Sam and Dean.

"That's our boy," Dean said, eyes on the small cell screen. "That ties him to the outbreak in Houston."

Sam was staring at the picture. "It's not a great photo."

"Ethan said his tech cleaned it up as best she could, but the surveillance chip was so degraded, it was a wonder she got anything."

Dean was still surveying the photo. "It's him. The way he holds himself. You see there?" The screen showed a man in motion, his left shoulder leading as he maneuvered through the bodies. Still in profile, the lifted chin and tilted head gave the impression of a person surveying but not partaking. There was an amusement and a certain aloofness to his observation of the crowd. "Behind him you can see aggression, fists raised."

Sam nodded, then said, "Hey!" as Caleb turned the cell around so he could see what Dean was talking about too.

Caleb merely smiled as he checked out the photo before handing his phone back over to Sam. "It'll take another hour and a half to get to Huntsville. I don't think he'll go to the clubs until later, so let's check the Bed and Breakfasts first."

Dean looked outside. It was still fairly light, though it should be dark when they got to Huntsville. "I don't know if he'll stay in the same city as where he placed the boxes, if he is placing more boxes."

The waiter walked up just then and began setting their hot dishes on the table.

"But you think he has more," Sam continued when they were alone again. He took a bite of his salmon and sighed. This was so much better than a frozen burrito.

Dean nodded. "That box…" he shook his head. "It nearly tore David Lassiter apart. It was bad for both of you as well."

"I don't think the box is dangerous on its own. If it were, we wouldn't be fine now," Caleb said, indicating himself and Sam. "Lassiter opened it, and that's when his body went haywire. Once Onida stabilized his cells, whatever was happening to me and Sam stopped. And the box hasn't affected anyone since."

"But what happened to both of you happened _after_ the box was already closed," Dean stated. "That is some powerful mojo."

"Sounds like the boxes are part of a larger plan or spell," Sam said. "Otherwise why circle the country?"

"We only have one box," Caleb stated. "I'll point out again that we don't know if he's planted boxes everywhere he's been."

"If we see him tonight, we'll find out," Dean said.

Caleb nodded. He glanced reflexively out the large restaurant windows, though he knew the man wouldn't be here at the Cracker Barrel. "He'll be there. I can feel him."

Sam frowned. "Can you get a psychic read on him from the pictures?"

Caleb gave Sam a tolerant eye roll and said, "No. I'm talking about hunter senses, not the psychic ones."

"Oh. I wondered if Onida had taught you something new," Sam stated. "I was about to demand that you share."

Caleb laughed.

"But I agree you with," Sam said, shifting slightly. "He's here, somewhere."

"Then how about we finish our meals and go find him," Dean suggested, digging into his lasagna and garlic bread.

**.**

They drove into Huntsville Alabama at close to eight-thirty. Instead of heading immediately for the clubs, they checked into the Westin and got their things into their suite. Sam searched his computer for Huntsville entertainment scene to get a look at the clubs, and whistled. "Wow, there are a ton of clubs, bars and music halls in Huntsville."

Dean and Caleb leaned over and Caleb echoed Sam's whistle. "Wow. That's a helluva lot of ground to cover."

"Can we narrow it down?" Dean asked. "The bigger clubs and the smaller pubs?"

Sam typed for reviews and read through several. "It's hard to say. There are a lot and they're spread out all over the place," he pointed to an online map showing the hub of downtown Huntsville, then sections on the east side and a large section on the west side. "Then there are these outliers here," he pointed to clubs down the highway. "If we figure he'll go in during peak traffic time, we can't get to all these clubs together." Looking over at Dean and Caleb, he said, "We'll have to split up."

"Bad idea," Caleb stated. "We don't know what this guy is capable of."

Dean frowned, looking at the map. Finally, he said, "We're going to have to split up if we want to cover this entire area."

"It's like Huntsville's a party town," Sam stated.

"I don't like it," Caleb growled. Staring at the map, he finally conceded. "Okay, how about we break up the area into three sections and we each patrol our section. As soon as one of us sees the car, we text the address to the others and everyone comes."

"Agreed," Sam said, nodding. "I'll make up a list of the clubs in each area and their addresses. We check the parking lots looking for the Hennessey. If it's not there, we move on."

"He'll go to the noisiest and rowdiest places," Dean said.

Sam nodded again. "If anyone checks out a club or bar that's too quiet, cross it off the revisit list. We don't want to waste our time."

Caleb looked at the other two and stated, "There's a no approach rule in force. Once anyone sees the car, we call immediately and everyone comes. Got it?"

Sam and Dean both agreed.

"Okay. I'm going to arrange for a couple of rental cars. No one," he pointed his finger at both Sam and dean, "leaves until we all leave, got it?"

"Yes, Sir," Sam intoned.

Caleb rolled his eyes and marched from the hotel room.

"He gets crabby when he doesn't like how a situation turns out," Sam observed.

"Got to say, I don't like us splitting up either," Dean said, his eyes on the screen. "But that's a crap ton of clubs and bars. We could just as easily miss our guy as find him in all that."

"Then splitting up is the right thing this time," Sam said. Watching his brother a moment, he added, "Joshua's not here."

"I'm aware, Sam," Dean stated.

"When we find him, what's your plan?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Right now we're getting a bead on the guy, confirming our speculations as to his route, seeing if he really is leaving boxes. We may not even find him tonight."

"But you think he's here; so does Caleb."

"And so do you."

"Yeah, me too. But since Joshua's not here, I just wanted to make sure you didn't go all Galahad on us and try to take him out on your own."

"Wasn't he a virgin?"

"That's what you focus on? He was the epitome of the perfect Knight who was found worthy of seeking the Holy Grail and all that stands out for you is his celibacy?"

"He was a virgin, Sam. How perfect could he be?"

"Shut up and let's get ready," Sam griped, muttering, "I should never have brought that up."

Dean smirked. "He'da been happier if he wasn't a virgin."

Sam made an irritated sound as he stalked away. "Sometimes I just can't talk to you."

Grinning, Dean watched his brother disappear into their bedroom. Yup, teasing Sam always made the day brighter.

Sam snapped the door to the bedroom closed, then leaned against it a moment. Letting Dean get under his skin was like a well-worn jacket; comfortable and comforting. Smiling, he shook his head and went to grab his jacket from his duffel. They were looking at a long night ahead.

**.**

Sam drove through the north and eastern sides of Huntsville. Caleb had rented two black SUVs, hoping for more power and being less conspicuous in a city full of off road vehicles, trucks and SUVs. He'd driven through the parking lots of Allure Martini Bar and Grill, Moody Mondays Inc and Lenea's Place without seeing the black Hennessey. Each one was crossed off the revisit list due to either closing too early, or being too quiet. The next club he visited, The End Zone, was marked for a revisit, as it was in the University district of Huntsville. There would definitely be more business later in the night. When he got to AM Booth's Lumberyard, he could hear the southern music blaring out into the parking lot as he circled. No matte black Hennessey yet, but he would definitely be circling back to this club.

Before hitting his next destination, Sam stopped by a convenience store and bought a large cup of coffee. Climbing back into his rental, he texted Dean and Caleb: no sighting of Venom. Within thirty seconds both had relayed their lack of contact. Staring the engine, he headed in the direction of his next stop; Sidetrack Music Hall, and the others on his list.

Continuing to watch for the car was his priority, but he was also scanning the crowd for a tall, white-haired man. Height was very difficult to conceal, as he knew himself. While still tall, being six-foot-one allowed Dean to slip through crowds like a fish through water. For him, it was never that easy. While clubs, bars and speakeasies gave a degree of anonymity, he had a feeling this guy would stick out in any crowd. It was going to be a long night, something he'd been saying a lot the last couple of days.

**.**

Dean drove through the city streets, eyes peeled for the black Hennessy. His only clue that the man might be in the entertainment district was his being seen by David Lassiter in Crossings, and the brawl Ethan had subdued in Houston. But it made sense. Bars, clubs, cabarets; all were places that could show heightened violence.

Like Caleb, he didn't like splitting up. But the sure volume of entertainment venues made it a necessity. Patrolling smaller areas ensured they wouldn't miss this guy if he were here. For some reason he didn't feel like this man came out after midnight, but they would stay out for as long as it took.

His area of the search grid was the outliers, the routes outside of the downtown area. He'd already driven through the parking lot of Ebony's Sports Bar and Grill and knew immediately that the man wouldn't go there. He'd then gone to Fantasia, a dance club with very loud pop sounds emanating through the open door. Definitely a place their mystery man would seek out, so he'd cruised through the parking lot twice. After hitting the Sports Page Lounge and Deli as well as Diamonds Sport Bar, both of which he crossed off his revisit list, he veered west and got onto Interstate 565. Off to the side at the Madison exit, he saw his next destination; Reflections Lounge and Entertainment. Pulling off the freeway, he entered the parking lot and jerked in surprise; there, at the outer edge of the lot sat a black Hennessey.

He circled away from the matte black car toward the other side of the lot and took a parking space directly next to the exit. Pulling his cell, he called Caleb.

"I found the car," he said the moment Caleb picked up

"Where."

"I'm looping Sam in." After a second when both Sam and Caleb were on the line, Dean repeated, "I found the car at a club called Reflections directly off US 565, Madison Boulevard exit."

"I'm headed your way."

"So am I," Sam stated.

"I don't know how…" Dean broke off as a very tall man exited the Lounge. The man walked with casual confidence, wearing his authority and power like a cloak. As the tall man got into the black car, a loud crash and screams from the building had Dean jerking his eyes in that direction.

"Dean…"

When he looked back, the man was already heading out of the parking lot. "Damn it," he muttered, starting the Impala and pulling out.

"What's happening?" Caleb demanded.

"He's on the move," Dean said. "Sam, track my GPS location and I'll call when we hit the next club. Be ready."

Tailing the Hennessey was easy, as sedans, SUVs and trucks were the common vehicle of choice on the roads of Huntsville. The black sports car sped back onto US 565. Dean stayed several cars back until the sports car pulled off once more. They were in Caleb's quadrant now. He followed as the car turned onto Jefferson, then made a left on Randolph, a right on Clinton where the Hennessey pulled into a club called Sammy T's Music Hall. He couldn't help his lips curving into a small smile at the name. Sam would hate it.

The man climbed from the Hennessey and started for the club. Suddenly his steps slowed just a fraction, before his relaxed and confident gait resumed, and he walked up the slight ramp and opened the front doors.

"Damn it," Dean muttered. The guy knew he was here. Grabbing his phone, he hit speed dial two. Sam picked up a second later.

"I parked the rental and Caleb's pulling up," Sam said. "Where are you?"

"Sammy T's Music Hall," Dean said, "and he knows I'm here."

"What? How?"

"He's psychic," Dean stated. He could hear Sam talking to someone, and knew that Caleb was there.

"This guy knows you're there?" Caleb asked, having obviously taken the phone from Sam. "Damn it." It showed the depth of their respect for one another's abilities that Caleb never questioned whether the man had seen Dean tailing him. Dean could follow a car better than most cops. He was invisible. "Okay, we'll be there in ten, seven if we blow traffic lights. Don't do anything stupid."

"Don't blow the traffics lights," Dean warned. "We don't need the attention."

"Yeah, yeah," Caleb muttered and hung up.

Dean closed his phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket. After watching the club for five minutes, he bit his lip a second and made a decision. Climbing from the car, he jogged toward the building. But instead of going inside, he slid around the side of the structure and walked quietly towards the back. Before rounding the corner, he listened intently for a minute, but didn't sense anyone or hear a sound. Edging around the building, he had his gun ready. The rear of the club was completely deserted. Carefully he searched the ground near the darkened windows and the back door until he saw the disturbed earth. Double checking to ensure no one was around, he lowered himself into a crouch and dug gently in the earth with his left hand, while he kept his right on the trigger on his gun. Soon his fingers brushed the top of a small wooden box. Gripping is tight, he pulled it from the earth. He glanced down for only a fraction of a second when he heard the voice.

"Well. Done."

Dean's eyes jerked up along with his gun. There, off to his right stood a man at least six-foot-seven. He was definitely taller than Sam. Before he turned fully to the man, he pocketed the box with his left hand. Stepping very slowly away from the building, he asked, "Who are you?"

The man seemed to be translating the question before he said, "Piruz zadeh Bahid."

Dean nodded. "What are you doing here?"

Again, the man didn't immediately speak, taking the time to understand the question. Finally he simply smiled. Instead of answering, he said, "Merlin's Child."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Merlin," the man said, and pointed to Dean.

Hesitating only a moment, Dean finally nodded.

The man's smile widened and he started forward, his hand out.

Dean backed up, his gun leveled on the man, center-mass.

Stopping, the smile dropped from the man's face to be replaced by an expression of puzzlement. This era, humanity had less manners and more suspicions. Sighing, he said, "Nihil teimendum est tibi."

Dean frowned. John Winchester had drilled Latin into him as a child, and though he hadn't bothered keeping up with it during his twenties and thirties, he'd brushed up since becoming the Guardian … brushed up in secret. He had an image to maintain, after all. And he'd never steal Sammy's scholastic thunder. Nothing to fear, my ass, he thought.

Misinterpreting the expression on Dean's face, Piruz said in English, "No fear from me."

Dean opened his mouth to say _there sure the hell is_. Instead, he asked quietly, "Did Merlin agree?"

The smile was back across the man's face, yet this time, there was a ferocity to it that had Dean immediately lifting and firing his gun.

The man raised his hand and the bullets were simply gone.

"Crap," Dean muttered, darting to the side. He didn't get far before he was flying in the air, hitting the ground heavily some twenty yards away. Quickly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of water. Since the hunt at the Yakama Reservation in Washington last year where he'd experienced using the silver in new ways, he'd taken to carrying around water on his person and in Baby. Pouring some onto his hand, he pictured a sword and stood.

The man stopped ten yards away and gave a full on smile. "Praeclarus!" _(Excellent!)_

Great, Dean thought. He was getting props from the bad guy. Moving forward, sword raised, he said, "Go back home."

"Home," Piruz said slowly, a mood of sorrow laced through his voice. "Domum."

"Domum," Dean repeated.

Piruz simply stared at Dean, and suddenly Dean realized there was no smile, no geniality in the facial expression at all and he instantly knew his sword would be useless. He wasn't getting anywhere near this man. Quickly he pictured the remaining water on his free hand as a silver star, lifted it and threw it at the man.

At the same time, he felt someone try to get into his mind. Even though he knew that as the Guardian his mind was protected against psychic intrusion, he threw up the iron blocks his father and Caleb had taught him to create years ago.

The man stumbled slightly, a look of surprised pain on his face. One hand started to go to his head before he halted the action and instead reached for the silver throwing star, pulling it from his shoulder. He moved to pocket it only to find his hand full of liquid.

Dean had turned the silver star back into water. There was no way he was letting this man have any of Merlin or Pastor Jim's silver.

The man stared at his hand, and the grin of delight was back. "Praeclarus! Mirum!" _(Excellent, Wonderful!) _Stepping forward, there was suddenly a large ball of flame in his hand which he hurled in Dean's direction.

Without even a moment's hesitation, the silver sword in Dean's hand morphed into a large, heavy shield. The fire hit the shield, crawled across the surface and dissipated. In the next instant he was under a full frontal assault, as magic he couldn't identify was hurled repeatedly in his direction. Stumbling backwards, his shield grew larger to cover him so he could barely hold it up. Figuring his attacker was too occupied hurling an arsenal of magical whatever at him, he pulled his gun again. Jabbing the sharp tail of his shield down into the dirt, he leaned around the edge and fired repeatedly, aiming for the man's chest. Just before his magazine clicked on empty, he heard the gratifying sound of pain. Ejecting the clip, he shoved another in its place before he peeked around the shield again. His mouth opened slightly in surprise. The man was gone. "What the…"

After a quick sweep of the area, he rose and closed his eyes, listening intently. He didn't remotely think the man would leave without finishing what he started. Slowly he tilted his head to the right and lifted his chin, focusing on every single sound, from cars in the distance, tires on pavement, animals, branches and leaves brushing against one another in the evening breeze. Tilting to the left, he listened to the wind. Suddenly he jerked his shield around just in time to partially block a reddish mass hurled at him. Most of it hit the shield, but a fraction of the wet goo-like substance hit his shoulder, causing immediate pain to spread across his body. Clenching his jaw, he didn't make a sound. He wasn't giving this bastard even one hint of satisfaction. How in hell had the man gotten around behind him?

Just then the back door of the club swung open and Caleb and Sam rushed out. Dean felt Caleb's mind touch his, and the pair were running in his direction.

The man known as Piruz watched the two for a moment, then he looked back at Dean. Bowing slightly, he said, "Donec iterum conveniant." _(Till we meet again)_

Stepping back a couple feet, Dean saw something bright appear in the night, then the man was gone.

Sam was at his side a second later. "Are you all right?"

"What the hell is that?" Caleb asked, pointing to the shield.

Dean released the shield and water splash onto the ground.

"He's hurt," Sam stated, leaning over.

"It's not bad," Dean grunted, shrugging his shoulder slightly.

"You're going to need a new jacket," Caleb pointed out. "And shirts."

Surprised, Dean looked down at his shoulder and indeed, the fabric of his jacket, flannel and tee beneath were burned away, leaving weeping and raw skin exposed to the night. "Oh, and ouch," he muttered. Looking up at Caleb, he said, "Check his car. It's at the far right corner of the parking lot near the exit."

Caleb nodded and raced across the small field behind the club.

Sam fell in beside his brother as they walked slowly toward the parking lot.

"I found this," Dean said, pulling the small box from his pocket.

"Another one," Sam stated, taking the box. Since he couldn't see the lid in the dark, he pocketed it and went back to keeping watch over his brother.

Caleb jogged back and came up on Dean's other side. "The car's gone."

"How did he get there so fast?" Dean mused.

"Do you think he'll go somewhere else tonight?' Sam asked.

"Yeah. I have the box from here. He'll have to go somewhere else."

"We need to find out more about the box," Sam stated, more to himself than anyone else.

"Let's check the next club," Dean said.

"No, we're taking you back to the hotel and tending that shoulder," Caleb stated. "We can check the clubs in the morning. I'm calling in Joel Neubridge and Daniel Rios. They just finished taking out those two black dogs in Carthage Mississippi. They can get here by tomorrow. They'll help us look for the boxes."

"We need to at least check Reflections," Dean said. "I know he was there."

"I'll check the club," Caleb stated.

"No." Dean grimaced as a stabbing pain went through his shoulder. "You were right, we should stay together."

"Now you say that," Caleb sniped. Sighing, he said, "All right, let's go to Reflections. Then we head back to the hotel. We can retrieve the second rental later."

Dean nodded. He climbed into the passenger's seat of the Impala while Sam got behind the wheel and Caleb jogged back to Sam's SUV. He tucked in behind the Impala as they drove back down US 565. When Dean pointed out their exit, both cars headed down the streets until they pulled back into the parking lot of Reflections Lounge.

"You see his car?" Dean asked.

Sam did a couple of turns around the parking lot and said, "No." Like Dean had earlier, he parked near the exit and opened the door. "I'm going to check out the building."

Caleb strode up to the Impala as Sam climbed out. Together, he and Caleb drew their weapons and jogged toward the building. Dean sat in terse silence until the two returned to the car some ten minutes later.

"There's a hole in the ground under one of the rear windows," Caleb said, leaning in the driver's side window.

"We think he went back and dug up the box."

Dean nodded, then winced.

Caleb took note. "Let's get back to the hotel," he said, returning to the SUV. When they got to the Westin, Caleb circled the lot to make sure there was no black Hennessey around before he pulled up to the building and parked. Getting out, he walked over to the Impala as Dean was climbing slowly from the car. "Go in the side entrance and take the stairs up to our room."

"I know the drill," Dean groused as he straightened.

"We're going to pick up the other rental," Caleb said. "I don't want to leave it on the streets."

"I'll take care of that shoulder when we get back," Sam said, giving Dean's good shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Sam and Caleb drove off as Dean walked into the hotel. Now that his adrenaline rush had subsided, the pain was making itself felt loud and clear. His encounter with Piruz … whatever his name was, had been too short. There hadn't been time time to provoke or irritate him into revealing any portion of his plans. A small smile twisted his lips. His father has always been aggravated when he verbally poked at the monsters. But he did so for a purpose; well, a purpose other than what Sam had declared was a perverted sense of enjoyment. When anyone, monster or man, was annoyed or enraged, they let things slip they wouldn't normally have said. He'd gathered a whole lot of intel that way through the years. Not tonight, however. The man was a witch, that was clear. But what was he doing and where he'd gone remained a mystery. One thing they had now proved, was that they could find him, and they would find him again. It was only a matter of time.

His keycard opened the door to the double suite Caleb had rented for them. Letting the coat slid from his shoulders, he walked into the bedroom on the left and dropped onto the mattress. Sighing, he quickly fell asleep.

That's where Sam found him an hour later. "Dean," he said, giving his brother's shoulder a gentle shake. "Come on, let me look at your shoulder." He waited a moment, then shook the sleeper again. "Dean."

Moaning softly, Dean rolled over and blinked up at the face leaning over him. "Sam … how'd you get here so fast?"

"Not so fast," Sam smiled. "We picked up the rental across town and brought it back. The rental company will pick up the cars in the morning. Come on, sit up. I need to tend your shoulder. It's obvious you didn't even wash it yet," he scolded. "What's the matter with you?"

Dean pushed himself up, then groaned again.

"Come on," Sam said, tugging on Dean's shirt sleeve. "Let's get this off."

Dean shrugged out of his flannel while Sam brought over the first aid kit. When he started for the t-shirt, Sam said, "I'll cut it off." A couple of slices later and the remains of the shirt hit the carpeted floor.

"I liked that T-shirt," Dean murmured.

"You like all your T-shirts," Sam said, smiling. He examined the wound on Dean's shoulder, while asking, "What was he like?"

"Tall," Dean grunted, as something cold touched his shoulder. "I was right; he's Middle Eastern. He doesn't speak English very well, though he understands more than he lets on." Taking a sip of the water Sam had brought in, he continued, "He tried to get into my mind."

"And failed," Sam said with a smile.

"Yeah. But I put up my blocks anyway. I think that surprised him."

The hotel room door opened and Caleb walked in. Coming straight into the bedroom, he bent over to check out Dean's shoulder. Dean knew better than to protest, so he just sat there and let his shoulder be inspected again.

"Looks like an energy burn," Caleb said, stepping back and pulling over a chair. "Too bad Onida's not here. She'd heal that right up." Though his lips were smiling, concern was fresh in his eyes.

"I'm fine," Dean said, giving his best friend a smile. "Sammy's doing his doctor thing."

"And Dean was telling me about the man."

"Piruz something or other," Dean said, frowning slightly. "I think he was offended that I didn't give him my name in return. He called me Merlin's Child."

"Seriously?" Caleb exclaimed, leaning forward. "He knows about Merlin?"

"Seemed to. He said we had nothing to fear from him. I asked if Merlin would agree, and that's when he attacked. So I'm guessing he knows of him … or knew him," Dean finished.

"Excuse me?" Caleb said as Sam's brows rose in surprise.

Suddenly Dean yawned, and Sam said, "Let's go over this tomorrow. How about we order something to eat from room service and get some sleep."

Caleb nodded and rose. Going to the phone, he put in an order for three burgers, fries and side salads, then gave their room number. When he finished, he said, "I'm putting up more protection symbols tonight. I don't want this guy coming for a visit."

Sam nodded and readied the chalk to make the symbols. Dean's eyes were half mass as he headed into the main room and dropped onto the couch. All he really wanted to do was go to bed. He was so tired. Suddenly he sat up, saying, "Do you think whatever that guy used on me could be draining my strength? I'm not usually this tired after a fight."

"I don't know," Sam said. Picking up his phone, he hit speed dial five, and a moment later Joshua picked up.

"Are you all right?" Joshua asked.

"Dean had an encounter with our mystery man," Sam said, "an aggressive one."

"Is he all right?"

"He's fine, except for a burn on his shoulder from magic." Sam's eyes went to Dean. "He said he was feeling unusually tired, and we were wondering whether there were spells that would drain a person's energy."

Joshua frowned. "Spells, yes. Describe the wound."

Sam told him about the burn and the weeping of blood and puss.

"It's still weeping?"

"Yeah, but it's slowing down now that he's resting."

"Can Dean tell you what the substance felt like?"

Sam asked his brother, and Dean said, "Like warm silly putty."

"Goop," Sam translated.

"I don't think there's anything to worry about. A draining spell would feel more peppery, prickly as it drew energy from the body. You've been traveling since this morning, and searched two cities before you hit Huntsville. Then he has this encounter with a complete unknown. I think it's just age catching up with him."

Sam grinned and eyed his brother. He didn't plan on repeating that last part. "Okay. We'll get to bed early and see how he feels in the morning."

A knock on the door signaled their meals had arrived. Caleb pulled the cart inside. "Thank you. I'll leave the cart out in the hall in the morning," he told the waiter, tipping him then closing the door. Immediately he started on the protection symbols.

Sam went to the other side of the room and began chalking up some symbols while Dean pushed himself up off the couch and salted the windows in the main suite, then in both bedrooms. When he returned to the main room, he dropped down in a chair at the table.

"Come on," Sam said. "Eat something. That's probably why you're tired."

Caleb sat down opposite and pulled a plate off the tray. Popping the plastic cover, he set the plate down in front of his friend. "Eat."

Over the meal, Dean told them everything that had happened at Sammy T's, from Piruz entering the venue, to his deciding to check and see if a box had been left. Taking another bite of his burger, he could admit that he felt better. He finished up with the man disappearing, then reappearing behind him.

"How did he do that?" Sam asked, frowning.

"He isn't a demon, is he?" Caleb asked. They hadn't seen demons in several years, but that didn't mean there weren't some around.

"No, and no idea how he disappeared and reappeared," Dean said, pushing the last bite of burger into his mouth. After a moment of chewing, he mumbled, "There was a light after you guys came."

"A light?" Caleb asked. "What light?"

Dean swallowed. "Don't know. You guys came out the back door. There was a round light, then he was gone."

Caleb shook his head, perplexed. Finally, he said, "I vote we skip checking cities in Georgia and South Carolina and head directly into North Carolina. If you think New York is his last stop, makes sense he'd hit a mid-size city there."

"Agreed," Sam said. Looking to Dean, he said, "I think Joshua should fly into Charlotte, maybe Onida too."

"Have they figured out a way to track the boxes?" Dean asked. "Finding a box tonight means he's probably left ones in other places."

"I'll call Onida and find out later," Caleb said. "If worse comes to worse, we call in some help and have hunters check the clubs in the affected cities." Standing, he said, "Now, though, we're getting you to bed."

Dean's eyes widened. "Seriously? I'm being put to bed?"

Sam laughed and rose. "Yup. We've got to leave early tomorrow to get you a new jacket."

Dean rolled his eyes, but wasn't too put out. He wanted to make a couple calls. "All right, I'll take a shower, then make some calls. JT will be wondering where we're at."

"I'll come treat the shoulder when you're done," Sam said, still working on his meal.

Dean nodded and disappeared into their bedroom.

Caleb waited until Dean was gone, then said, "I don't like that this guy apparently knows Merlin."

"Or about Merlin," Sam clarified.

Caleb shook his head. "Dean said he had the feeling this guy was old. For some reason I'm thinking he is, and he actually knew Merlin."

"How is that possible?" Sam asked, putting down the last bite of his hamburger.

Caleb's appetite fled, and he also dropped his burger onto his plate. "I don't know. Do you have the picture Dean was studying? I want to see if I can see what he's seeing."

Sam nodded and dug in his computer case, pulling out the grainy picture. "Good luck. I think we're going to need it."

* * *

_2413 BC…_

The city center was bustling with commerce. Trade for grain, wine, herbs, spices and fabrics were being conducted in the massive plaza. That's where his family set up their stalls when the traveled to Petra to sell and trade cloth. They were textile merchants and owned a large business in Eridu dealing in woven and dyed cloths as well as imported fabrics. Near the temple area, animals were being sold as sacrifices. The two largest temples were for Dushara, the supreme deity and official god of the Nabataeans, and a smaller temple for Al-'Uzzá, the goddess of the evening star, both important deities for Petra. However, there was a third temple for the worship of foreign gods such as Ashtoreth and Baal, Enlil, Ashur, Ishtar and Ea. Basically, for any other god travelers wished to worship and ask for safe journey blessings.

Around the pools down the long colonnade stretching out before the temples of Petra, the greatest teachers and thinkers were exchanging ideas and pontificating, trying to impress one another as well as bystanders. This was the place he loved most. There were philosophers, thinkers, historians, astrologers, writers and poets. Those skilled in herbs, potions and magiks also shared their knowledge and gathered more from around the world. It was a place of intellectual bounty available for the asking. In his home city of Eridu, there were thinkers and teachers, but not like within the great city of Petra.

Eridu was in Southern Mesopotamia and stood close to the Nile. There were many small settlements in Mesopotamia, and some cities of decent size. But Petra was the center of trade and civilization. Their technologies were second to none, and he loved experiencing the architecture, the waterways and learning ideas from around the world.

Petra also offered another avenue of knowledge, one that was less assessable to most travelers. Located in the outer chamber of one of the largest tombs called The Treasury, was a secret place for magical learning. This was where the sorcerers, the conjurors, potion and spell masters worked. He had always had a natural talent for magiks. He read the stars and the seasons, could mix potions, and wrote his own spells. Here, his talents were appreciated and valued. Here, he could pour over the oldest of tablets and stone carvings gathered from the outer edges of the world. These most ancients of tomes were treasured, and only the most revered magician could supervise his studies. Yet he yearned for even more knowledge, to push the boundaries of magik.

Though Petra was a thoroughly modern city, there were practices and practicians that were shunned, even in such a progressive metropolis. Those who practiced the dark arts were the darkest of magicians; the occultists. For their teachings, he went into the deepest canyons just outside the city. He was welcome there, not only for his knowledge, but for his razor-sharp magical instincts and extreme talent. He absorbed their teachings as fast as they passed them on. But even those most learned of the dark magicians had not made the discoveries he had.

"hnak eawalm 'ukhraa ghyr hdha alealam." he told them one day during his visit to Petra. (_There are other worlds than this one_).

The robed men of the hidden society laughed.

"Piruz, hunak ealam wahid faqat." (_Piruz, there is only one world_)

"laqad katabt taewidhatan. laqad ra'ayt min khilal alhijab." (_I wrote a spell. I have seen through the veil_).

Silence greeted his announcement.

The oldest of the occultists said, "hal ra'ayt almawt?" (_You have seen Death?_)

Piruz frowned in puzzlement and shook his head. "la , laqad ra'ayt ealmana akhiran. ealam mithl hdha walakuna mae al'ashjar waltalal waleashb al'akhdar." (_No, I have seen another world; a world like this one but with trees and hills and green grass_).

Several of the men threw their pleated robes over their heads in horror.

The older leader walked up to Piruz. Leaning forward, he hissed urgently, "la mazid min al'akadhiba. Yjb 'an la tatahadath ean hdha marat 'ukhraa." (_No more lies. You must not speak of this again_).

Piruz was stunned. If there was anywhere he had thought his knowledge, his discoveries would be welcomed, it was here. Yet they were as backward and ignorant with regards to the possibilities and the reach of magik as the honored thinkers. Rising, Piruz gave a small bow and walked from the cavern and the canyons, never to return.

**.**

_Eridu: fifteen years later _

Piruz bent over a vast stone jar, stirring. In his family's business of weaving and dying fine cloths, he was the dye castor. It was his job to mix the dyes, then to place the fabric in the jars and keep the cloth moving so the color would spread evenly and not take to one section of the fabric more than another. His family was noted for their perfect fabric weaves and an impressively even color all throughout the cloth. Purple dye was the most difficult to make, a luxurious color the most arduous to achieve. It was a meticulous job, but one he enjoyed; it allowed him to consider the worlds out there to explore. But he was pulled from his usual reverie by raised voices outside.

"nuh yabni qarbana fi alsihra'!" (_Noah is building a boat in the desert!_)

There was laughter following this pronouncement.

"qarb? kayf ealimt bdhlk? 'iinah yabni shyyana limudat khamsin eamana!" _(A boat? How do you know? He's been building something large for fifty years!)_

"laha shakal mumayaz alana. tueal wanzar!" _(It has a distinct shape now. Come see!)_

Frowning, Piruz pulled the cloth from the jar and quickly hung it up to dry before heading to the door.

"'ayn?" the baker from the shop next door exclaimed. (_Where?_)

"aitbieani! (_follow me_), aitbieani!"

Piruz stepped outside to see several men trailed by a few women trotting down one of the dirty streets of Eridu. Curious, he followed. It was almost an hour before they came to the man called Noah's encampment and saw the rudiments of a massive structure. Frowning, Piruz walked slowly around the construction, keeping his distance. The other people, many from Eridu, others from the neighboring towns and nomadic encampments nearby were laughing and jeering at those painting long pieces of wood with pitch. However, Noah and his sons didn't answer the scoffers. They merely continued their work.

A boat in the desert, Piruz snorted softly to himself. There wasn't time for such nonsense, and he soon bored of the laughter and ridicule. Turning, he walked back to Eridu and his neglected duties.

_53 Years Later…_

Piruz zadeh Vahid had several people working in his parents dye shop now. His parents still participated in the business to some extent, but it was his oldest brother who now ran the front shop while a younger brother supervised the weaving and craft arts of enhancing silks and linens. His last two brothers traveled to far off lands to acquire unique silks and cloths. His job was to survey the dying of fabrics and the marketing. In the last fifty years the towns surrounding Eridu had grown larger, and he'd added them to his route on his trips to Petra. He'd continued to study, and had now garnered some attention, not all of it positive. His parents insisted he be the one to lead all of the sales trips, with a mind to getting him out of the city. He hadn't minded that at all. He took very few servants with him on his trips, instead choosing to hire nefarious characters that wouldn't ask too many questions when odd things happened, and who wouldn't be missed if they never returned.

It was midweek, and he was loading the caravans with clothes, silks, veils and fabrics for his sales trip when it started to rain. Rain in the desert was sparse at any time, but rain at this time of year was unusual. Still, he climbed atop his horse and his caravan of merchandise and servants started out for the first city on their sales trip. By the time they reached the second city on their route, the rain was heavier and had been continuous for more than ten days. People were talking, whispering. He finished his business with several distracted customers – which allowed him to charge more than the usual price – and headed out for the third city on his way toward Petra. When the caravans bogged down several times en route, he began to feel concerned. It was a push to make it into town, where he purchased lodging for him and his men. He was eating dinner in the common room when he heard the talk.

A large robed man with a long beard was saying, "waqad ghamarat almiah aledyd min almanatiq alkharijiati." (_Several of the outer areas have flooded all ready._)

Across from him, another man asked, "lamada yahdeth hudhall hill aguzbena al-alhah?" _(Why is this happening; have we angered the gods?_)

"lays alihatina , 'iilah nuhu. allah almajhul bila asma." (_Not our gods, Noah's god. The unknown God with no name_).

Shaking his head, as though he didn't believe, a third man took a long draught from his wine. "nuh wa'asratah muhasirun fi dhalik alqarib alkabir. kan alnaas yatriqun lildukhul , lakanh ln yajiba." (_Noah and his family are locked up tight in that big boat. People have been knocking to get in, but he won't answer_).

A very young man in expensive robes listened intently to the other men at the table. "hal sanaghraq?" _(Are we going to drown?)_

Another man leaned in close and pulled the younger man to his side. "bialtabe la. 'iinah mjrd 'amtar ghyr mutawaqaeatin. sawf yatawaqaf qaribana." (_Of course not. It's just an unexpected rainfall. It will stop soon_.)

But it didn't stop. It kept raining and raining. Worried, Piruz turned the caravan around and started the return journey toward Eridu. From what he heard from travelers along the way, people were running to Noah and his ark, pounding on the sides and asking for entry. But the enormous boat remained shut tight. And still the rain fell. When he reached home, his family had already packed up several camels and made plans to head for the mountains in the distance. It was an arduous journey, as the roads were nearly impassible with water. By the time they got to the mountain ridges, they were wading.

"aibda altal," said Piruz' father. _(Start up the hill.) _Harassed and worried, he pushed his wife and their four daughters to the hillside. Turning, he motioned for his sons to lead the camels up the side of the mountain.

Piruz blinked upward through the rain and knew they would never be safe. Approaching his father, he said, "ymknny 'an akhidhana 'iilaa makan amin." _(I can take us somewhere safe.)_

Frowning, his father eyed him and asked, "madha taeni?" _(What do you mean?)_

Piruz looked over at his mother, his sisters, his brothers and their servants wading through the water to climb the side of the mountain. Taking a deep breath, he said, "ymknny fath nafidhat bayn alealamina. 'astatie 'an akhadhna fi makan amin." _(I can open a window between worlds. I can take us somewhere safe.)_

"yashrh," his father demanded. _(How?)_

"sahar," Piruz stated. _(Magik._)

"sahar 'asuda! alsihr alsharir!," his father exclaimed. _(Dark magik! Evil magik!)_

Piruz snorted in derision. "'iinah sharayan alhayati. yuzhir alsihr alwala' lil'aqwaya'a. 'ana qawiun , ldhlk 'aqwas sahriatan li'iiradati." _(It is a lifeline. Magik shows allegiance to the strong. I am strong, so magik bows to my will.)_

" alainhina'," his father hissed in horror. _(Bows…)_

"neim. 'ana syd alshr. tueal maei waeaysh." (Yes. I am the master of magik. Come with me and live.)

"ghyr tabieiin…" his father whispered as fear entered his eyes. "yjb 'an nathiq fi 'iinlil , 'iilah alriyah walhua' wal'ard waleawasif , rayiys kli alalihat. siahmina." _(Abomination… We must trust in Enlil, God of wind, air, earth and storms, the chief of all gods. He will protect us.)_

"ln yhmina li'anah la yastatie dhalik. lkn yumkinuni 'an 'anqadhana!" _(__He won't protect us because he cannot. But I can save us.)_

Horrified, his father shouted, "barra utuk xul!" _(Begone evil spirit!)_

Piruz stared at his father for a long moment, then slowly bowed. "kunt 'atamanaa hu 'amri." _(You're wish is my command.) _Turning, he muttered a few words and a spot of light appeared in the middle of the rain. Slowly the light grew and dappled mountains, green trees, lush gardens and a brilliant blue sky appeared. When the window was large enough, Piruz walked through the doorway into sunlight. Turning, he looked back into his old world, at the rain pouring in sheets onto the desert landscape; he looked into his father's eyes and murmured, "wadae al'ab 'iilaa al'abad." _(Farewell forever, Father.)_

* * *

Joshua sighed and put down the silver teaspoon he'd been using.

Adam looked up. "You need some rest."

"As do you," Joshua said with a weary smile. "We've been at this for hours."

Adam chuckled softly. "I know. Trying to find something to make an atom or particle circling a blank spot big enough to track isn't an easy task, especially when we can't use it on the particle itself."

"It is a dilemma," Joshua agreed. Sighing he sat back, frowning. "We can't make the particle appear bigger?"

"I think we tried that four hours ago," Adam said, taking a look at his notes.

"Oh, right." Joshua sighed and looked through the kitchen doorway to where Onida had fallen asleep on his couch. Carolyn and Nicholas had gone to bed hours ago, and the puppies were asleep on a cushion in their pen. Turning back to his computer, he stared at the screen. Maybe they were going about this the wrong way. "All right, what about helping Onida detect the cocobolo wood?"

"She also tried going at that in several different ways," Adam said. "She couldn't detect anything."

Joshua closed his eyes, weariness clouding his thoughts. Finally, he said, "Cocobolo wood encases strong magic or curses so they can't get out. As such, it relates like a blank spot on the energy scale."

Adam nodded, but didn't add anything, just letting Joshua talk it out.

"But for some reason, whatever is encased in _this_ box appears to be pulling in or absorbing particles of light."

"You also said the box could be routing the particles way from itself," Adam interjected.

"Yes. Either way, it seems whatever is encased in the box is doing something unique." Brow creased in thought, Joshua continued, "All right, suppose we go with the speculation that whatever is inside is more powerful than the box. Over time, would it infuse the wood with its own power?"

Adam blinked. "You're suggesting that whatever is inside could be so powerful, it would transform wood _noted_ for its ability to contain magic." The prospect was extremely frightening.

Joshua nodded.

"What could possibly be that powerful?" Both he and Joshua were extremely well studied in crafter arts; in herbalism, botanics and potions, and Joshua had additional resources due to his involvement with the Brotherhood.

"A magic we've never heard of before," Joshua stated uneasily.

Adam let the silence stretch out for a moment, before he said, "Of course, this is all speculation."

Joshua gave a soft chuckle. Everyone had been saying that a lot over the last few days.

Adam ran his fingers through his hair. "Question: If this really is something too powerful to be contained, what do we do when it gets out?"

"We deal with it. But right now, we need to renew our efforts to find the boxes. I don't want something with that much power in the hands of anyone other than the Brotherhood."

Adam nodded. If he hadn't come to know the Brotherhood and to respect what they did, he would have been blissfully ignorant that something out there might be more powerful than the strength of cocobolo wood to contain. "Then once we find the boxes, we figure out a way to contain whatever is inside."

"Exactly," Joshua said with more confidence than he felt.

"Even though we have no idea of what that could be," Adam stated sardonically, a glint of humor in his eyes.

Joshua smiled. "Even though." He needed to call Dean, to call Sam and Caleb. A glance at the kitchen clock revealed it was after one in the morning. No wonder he and Adam were exhausted. They needed sleep if they were to find a technique to detect what could be termed as irradiated cocobolo wood.

* * *

Sam was bent over his computer. He'd gotten an email from Alison that confirmed the translation of the four middle lines on top of the wooden box. They hadn't figured out any of the rest of it meant yet, but they would. Adding some particles for clarity, the top of the box read:

_Hidden in space and time_

_A place where once mankind dwelled_

_Wailing for knowledge gained, innocence lost_

_Beware, chaos, heed the warning, halt unlock_

Sam frowned. What did it all mean? He wondered if the four symbols in the corners added something to the whole, or whether the symbols between the lines mitigated part of the verse. _Hidden in space and time_… _Time_ obviously referred to something old, possibly even ancient. But _space_? In ancient times space would mean the skies, the heavens. Could this be philosophizing, some lofty concept?

_A place where once mankind dwelled_… That could reference an ancient city, maybe back to Mesopotamia, possibly one of the Biblical cities like Babylon. _Once dwelled_ meant a place where no one lived now, so a dead city. He'd have to ask Elijah whether the ancient Sumerians were a philosophical people. Maybe the box was referring to Ancient Sumer. That was a place mankind used to dwell, but had long since disappeared, like Petra or the legendary lost cities that had never been found by modern searchers; Kalahari or El Dorado.

"Sam."

Sam looked up to see Caleb standing just outside his bedroom door. "Yeah?"

Caleb walked forward. "It's after two in the morning. Go to bed. We need you rested."

"Alison confirmed the translation Brian and I made on the four middle lines on the box," Sam said.

"Really?" Caleb stepped over to the table and dropped into one of the chairs. He reached over and read, "_Hidden in space and time; __A place where once mankind dwelled; Wailing for knowledge gained, innocence lost; Beware, chaos, heed the warning, halt unlock_." Looking up, he said, "Cheery. I thought Brian translated the top to say _Do Not Open_."

"Halt unlock could be translated do not open," Sam said. "Halt or stop the opening or unlocking of the box. He probably got the translation right, but interpreted the ancient verbiage in his head."

Caleb nodded. "Lots of words there about doom."

Sam shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I know. Chaos, doom, beware. Just another hunt, huh?"

Caleb chuckled. "Do you know what it means?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not an expert on ancient civilizations. I thought I'd email a copy of it to Elijah, see what he says. But then, there are a lot of other symbols on the lid, and I don't know how those interact with the center lines. Maybe I should wait till I have all the data." He was interrupted by a large yawn.

"Go to bed," Caleb said, rising. Moving across the room to his bedroom, he added, "And check on your brother."

Sam rolled his eyes, but saved a copy of the text. Another yawn had him shutting down his computer and rising. Yup, definitely time to get some sleep. He double checked the protection symbols and the salt lines across the windows and doors, before heading into the room he and Dean were sharing.

His brother's soft breaths greeted him the moment he stepped across the threshold. Walking to his brother's bed, he leaned over to check the bandage at Dean's shoulder. No wetness or blood trances were showing. Nodding, he slipped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, before he climbed into bed. His body relaxed slowly as he relished being horizontal. Turning onto his side, he was just about to drop off when he heard Dean mumble, "Night, Sammy." Smiling, he murmured, "Night Dean," and drifted away.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: _

_The character's authentic language is included for style more than any intent for readers to follow it. English will always be included!_

_Piruz's Native Tongue: In place of the Phoenician language, which is a Semitic language of the Canaanite subgroup, the closest living option was Hebrew. Since I didn't see the Eridu and Petra characters speaking Hebrew, second and third choice options were Aramaic and Arabic. Full Aramaic translators are not available online, so I went with Arabic. You will see other languages throughout this piece, and I'll try to identify them in the notes! (For anyone who speaks or reads Arabic, I apologize for mine and Googles mistakes. lol)_


	12. Chapter 12

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 12

.

Darkness was at its deepest, yet the black Hennessey Venom sped along the highway without headlights. Piruz felt satisfaction, but only a small degree of concern. Merlin's child was no match for him, he saw that now. It was impressive that the child had been able to track him. He thought he had been covering his tracks quite well. Yet the Children of Merlin had tracked him to the city in the province of Alabama. Maybe he needed to add more protection to himself, his vehicle and his destinations.

Red and blue lights whirled in his rearview mirror. Smiling, he pressed his foot onto the gas pedal, increasing his speed. He still found it much easier to drive without the front lights on, thus had learned his rear lights did not shine either. Soon, the speed enforcement officer would be left in the dust, and he would be closer to his next destination.

* * *

Joshua pulled another jar from his heavily packed shelves in the basement workshop of his home, studied the label and poured some into a waiting Tupperware container. He knew most people who dealt in magic used the traditional burlap or silk sacks. But he liked Tupperware. It was airtight and protected the ingredients, and by extension, the magic.

After filling a few more containers, he reached into a drawer and grabbed several packages of empty, exceptionally thin Mylar pouches. These small, thin pouches took careful filling, but when thrown they broke on contact. They were the best thing to use in fighting bad guys. Stepping back, he stared at his duffel. He had packed the ingredients for the most powerful spells he knew or could find. He hoped they'd be enough.

"Joshua?"

Joshua turned as Adam came down the stairs into his workshop. "I'm here."

Adam stepped into the room and crossed over to the work counter where Joshua stood. He looked at the packed bag. "You're going to help Dean, Sam and Caleb?"

Joshua nodded. Zipping up his duffel, he said, "I don't go into the field very often anymore, but this man seems to be a powerful crafter."

Adam stared at his friend. He didn't want Joshua to go up against this person, whoever he was. Joshua was seventy-three years old. He was nowhere near as spry as he used to be. He didn't want to lose his friend. "I'm coming with you."

Joshua smiled and shook his head. "No. This is Brotherhood business."

"I helped on Brotherhood business last year," Adam said. "If this man is a crafter and he's creating some sort of massive spell, then I'm a part of this; we're crafters. If we don't unite together against those of evil intent, we're not living up to our responsibilities. We have a duty to make sure this man does no harm."

Joshua smiled. "We're not doctors."

"No, we're better than that," Adam stated with his usual stoic confidence. "We use the powers of creation to heal and support life."

"I'm going too."

Both men tuned to see Onida standing a couple steps up from the bottom of the stairs.

"I thought you were asleep," Joshua commented.

Onida shrugged, descending fully into the workroom. "I was," she said, fighting the need to yawn because of Joshua having said the word _asleep_. Eyeing the two men, she finally asked, "Are we going to stand around here all day? I thought we had a plane to catch?"

Joshua frowned. "Caleb would never forgive me if…"

Onida held up a hand to stop him. "I get that this guy is bad, though I don't understand why you think he's a big bad. But I can take care of myself. I've been on hunts before." She eyed the Advisor. "Why _is_ he a big bad? I mean, we found a box where violence _didn't_ happen. Have we established he's responsible for anything? He may be trying to stop the violence like we are."

"At every scene of violence, he was there," Joshua said.

"That you could track," Onida countered, walking further into the room. "I thought most of the data analyzed so far was from Stillwater, Houston and Anaheim. Have you gotten corroboration from the other cities?"

"Yes," Adam said.

Joshua looked around at him in surprise.

Adam grimaced slightly. "I used your computer to check in with Ryker. I saw the email from Alison. You've spoken about her sending information regarding the other cities, so I peeked. I came down here to tell you that there were sightings of the black car in Baltimore and Ashland. None in Kennebunkport or Rockland." Looking Joshua straight in the eye, he said sincerely, "I really didn't mean to pry, but I was curious and it seemed like we were on a deadline. I'm sorry."

"Accepted," Joshua said, giving his long time friend a comforting clasp on the shoulder. "Let's get packed and get to the airport. Caleb has the jetliner already waiting."

"Hang on a second," Onida stated, holding up a hand. "We haven't found a way to track the boxes yet."

"But we're close," Joshua said. "Sometimes we have to do things on the fly. We'll work on perfecting that last formula once we're on the plane."

Onida nodded. "Okay. I'm heading home to get some clothes. You," she jabbed a finger at Joshua, "are not leaving without me, got it?"

"I won't leave without you," Joshua affirmed.

Onida eyed him again, then formed a ball of energy in her hand and said, "You'd better not." Squelching the energy orb, she gave both men a sweet smile and jogged up the stairs.

Adam looked over at Joshua. "I thought you guys were the leaders of the Brotherhood."

"We are. But wives and partners are still…"

"Wives and partners," Adam finished, chuckling.

Joshua slung his duffel carefully over his shoulder and said, "Show me the email."

* * *

Caleb hit disconnect on his phone, then scrolled down his call list to hit another number.

"Yeah?" came a sleepy voice.

"Raylan? This is Caleb."

The man squinted at his phone and groaned. "You realize it's four in the morning, right?"

Caleb grimaced. "Sorry, I forgot you were in Arizona."

Raylan Tanner shoved off the covers and pushed himself into a sitting position. Running a hand briskly over his face, he said, "Forget about it. What's up?"

"You finish off that Ōkami in the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest?"

"Yeah, yesterday."

"Good. In the morning I need you to drive to California, Orange County to be exact."

"Yeah?" Raylan stifled a yawn. "What's in Orange County besides Disneyland, the Skyland Trampoline Center and Adventure City?"

"You know about Adventure City?"

"Moving on…" Raylan said, forced boredom in his tone.

Caleb chuckled. "There's a hunt, a big hunt. Someone is placing spell boxes at sites in the city. These are very old, very powerful boxes. I need someone to help retrieve them who will be very careful and won't open them."

Caleb had known Raylan Tanner for more than thirty years. The man was as discrete as they came, and didn't poke his nose in where it didn't belong. He could be trusted to collect the boxes in Anaheim.

"Okay, you know where this box is?"

"Boxes, plural," Caleb corrected, "and no, not really."

Raylan blinked. "Come again?"

"I'm not sure where they are, exactly. We're working on that information now. I just need you to get there and be in place when we find them."

"What's going on?"

Caleb gave the other man a cursory overview of what had been happening; the violence, the man in the car.

There was silence for a moment, before Raylan asked, "You think this person is a wizard of some sort, like Voldemort?"

Caleb snorted in laughter. "I wouldn't have put it like that, but yeah."

"I've watched my sister's kids one too many times," Raylan stated. "I have all the Potter movies memorized at this point. All right, I'll head out in the morning. Am I meeting anyone there? Anaheim is a large city, and there are hundreds of clubs."

"Yeah. I'm about to get on the phone with Kace Brandt. He's taking care of a poltergeist in Utah. Should be finished in enough time to meet up with you."

"You're asking me and Kace to cover all those clubs?" asked Raylan, his voice somewhat daunted.

"I'll see if anyone else is in the area. But I'm banking on our being able to send you directly to the box."

"Yeah, okay. I'll give you a call when I get there."

"Thanks," Caleb said, hanging up. Sighing, he reached up and massaged his forehead, trying to dispel the headache that had started five minutes ago.

"How long have you been up?"

Caleb smiled at Dean's rumbled appearance as he walked into the room and dropped into a seat on the other side of the table. "Since around seven. I've got teams on the way to all the cities that might have those boxes. Hopefully Onida will be able to track them, but in case not, we'll have to look ourselves."

"Do you think this Pierre dude will put up protections around the boxes now that he knows we're on to him?"

"I think his name is Piruz," Sam mumbled, stumbling into the main living space of the suite. "Cause that's what you said before sleep interfered with your cognitive processes." Yawning, he poured himself some coffee and dropped into a seat at the table.

"Morning," Caleb said, smirking. Sam was almost as bad as Dean for morning grumpiness. Almost.

"Piruz," Dean amended, though he really didn't care. "Well?"

"If I were him, I would cloak the boxes the moment I had the chance," Caleb said.

Hoping the answer would have been different, Dean sighed. "Yeah, so would I." Going to the hotel room phone, he ordered breakfast to be brought up to their room: eggs, biscuits, bacon and fruit.

"I've got teams going in to search for the boxes," Caleb told Sam. "Let's hope we can find them before Piruz cloaks them."

Dean warmed his coffee as well as Caleb's before sitting back at the table.

Sam yawned widely before saying, "So, we're headed to North Carolina."

"Unless Piruz has changed his play," Dean muttered.

Sam shook his head. "He's a witch," Sam said. "He has to finish the circle, and we've already established his pattern. Whether that pattern was set by this specific spell or his personal idiosyncrasies, I don't believe he'll deviate in the final stretch. You guys say he'll go to North Carolina, then finish the circle in the biggest city on the east coast: New York."

Dean nodded his agreement, not sure why he'd even voiced such nonsense except his body ached and he was feeling out of sorts. He'd gotten the sense of the man the night before; arrogant and more amused by their efforts to stop him than threatened. No, the witch wouldn't change his focus. Shifting, his shoulder pulled and the ache spread throughout his body. Instead of letting it show, he pushed the pain away almost subconsciously. Sam saw, of course.

"You should let me take a look at that," Sam said, indicating the burn wound.

"I checked it out this morning," Dean said. "It's fine. No blood or oozing. It's just tender."

"I'll take a look before we head out," Sam stated, not giving his brother a choice.

Dean merely rolled his eyes and moved on. "Any idea how he'll close the circle? The usual or something new?"

"The most powerful spells need blood as a seal," Sam said, going into Professor-mode. "Joshua and Ryker use their blood to seal protection circles and Triad circles. Most witches would use blood, not only to seal the circle but bind the circle to themselves. Like we were saying yesterday; there are rules and fundamentals in magic. He'll use blood."

"This is a big-ass circle," Caleb observed. "Wouldn't it take a couple gallons of blood or more to seal a circle this big? That would mean sacrificing people."

"It might just be that the blood chosen would need to be powerful in some way," Sam speculated. "Quality not quantity."

"You mean a specific kind of blood," Dean said for clarification.

"Joshua would be the one to answer that," Sam said. "Knowing what kind of spell this is would help in identifying the seal needed. But we'd be safe in saying powerful blood, magical blood preferably, would need to be used to seal the spell."

"Would another witch be considered a good sacrifice" Caleb asked, fear for Joshua prompting the question.

"I suppose to would depend on how powerful the witch," Sam said slowly, his eyes on Caleb. "And like everything else on this hunt, we're speculating anyway."

"We know he's a wizard," Caleb said. "And we know he's working a spell around the country and using the boxes as talismans."

"But we don't what kind of spell or what it will do," Sam stated.

Caleb didn't respond. He didn't want Joshua in danger.

Dean eyes Caleb and could understand his unease. He wouldn't like it if Sam had a target on his back, speculative or not. "If I know Adam, he'll be with Josh when he gets here. Aside from us, there's no one better to watch Joshua's back."

"Caleb gave a slow nod. "Yeah, no one besides us."

"We won't let anything happen to Joshua," Sam vowed.

Instead of continuing the discussion on destinations and sacrifices, Dean decided to air another potential problem. "If this guy knows were tracking him, it would be a good idea for him to take us out before we can interfere any more with his master plan."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Foregoing an immediate reply to Dean's statement, Caleb got up to get their breakfasts. He pulled the new cart into the room and traded it for the old one. After tipping the waiter, he wheeled the food over to the table and sat.

"So, back to the guy wanting to take us out," Caleb said.

"I don't think he views us as a real threat, more like a nuisance," Dean shrugged. "But if we can track him, we can slow him down. We're disrupting his plans."

"So we keep our eyes open like always," Sam said, taking the plate Dean handed him and placing it on the table. "Anyone got a feeling on which city this guy's going to pick?"

"Raleigh," Dean and Caleb said together, before grinning at one another.

Sam stared. "There are some major cities in North Carolina. Why Raleigh?"

"Just a feeling," Caleb said.

"Shouldn't we check all cities, like in Alabama?"

"We will, to be safe," Dean said.

They ate in silence for several minutes before Caleb sat back and pushed his empty plate aside. Watching the other two finish their meals, he said, "I've sent Raylan Tanner and Kace Brandt to California to search for the boxes. Joel and Daniel are checking Alabama, and they'll follow us to North Carolina to help us find the boxes there. I've got one hunter each going to Rockland and Ashland, Jodi and Mark are backtracking to Stillwater to help Donna, and two additional hunters are headed to Baltimore. They'll check in with Diana when they get there."

"What about Houston?" Sam asked.

"Ethan's got that covered. He knows which clubs were the worst hit and he's got Elijah and his son Gideon there to help. He'll let me know if he needs more help."

"Where are Lane and Morgan?" Sam asked. Lane was Elijah's son, and Morgan Fox was Silas's youngest. Both were members of the secondary Triad along with Gideon; Gideon Matthews as Guardian, Morgan Fox the Knight, and Lane Matthews as Scholar.

"They're finishing a hunt in Florida," Caleb said. "I asked them to hang out there a day or so in case we need help in North Carolina."

Sam nodded, finishing the last of his toast. Setting his plate on the cart, he said. "Without stops, it's a seven hour drive from here to Charlotte. Beyond that it's only an hour or so to Winston-Salem, half hour to Greensboro, then an additional hour-plus to Raleigh." Draining his coffee mug, he finished with, "It's going to be a long day."

"Josh lands at three," Caleb said, "and he's bringing a magical arsenal."

"Good, we can use it," Sam said, gathering his notes and organizing them to go into his computer bag.

While Caleb cleared the table, Dean toyed with his coffee mug, thinking. Finally he looked up at the other two and said, "If this guy wants to take us on, maybe we should get on with it."

Sam looked up, startled. "What? You said this guy was hurling magic at you like it was candy, and you want to deliberately take him on?"

"I got a glimpse of some of his magic tricks, but we need to know what he's capable of."

"So, what," Caleb said, "We call him out?"

Sam snorted. "You actually think this guy is just going to come meet us for a fight?"

Caleb wheeled the cart to the door. "This guy is old world. If we launch the metaphorical glove across the cheek, he'll meet up with us."

Sam rolled his eyes at Caleb's referencing the Three Musketeers. The man was obsessed. Instead of addressing that, he said instead, "You think he's that old?"

"Dean has a better sense of him, so I'll go with that," Caleb said.

"If we do send him a message to come out and meet up with us, how do we do that?"

Caleb tapped his forehead. "I'll send out a psychic all points."

"He knew I was waiting for him in the parking lot, Sam," Dean said.

Sam took a huge breath, then said, "Let's do it, then. See what he's made of."

"We should watch out for a hit on the road too," Dean said, rising. "While guerrilla warfare didn't really start until the Picts attacked the Roman armies from the trees and from behind bushes…"

"Formalized battles took over after that as what could be termed _honorable_ fighting became the norm," Caleb interjected.

Dean nodded. "Then in early American history during the American Revolution, settlers attacked the British army from the trees and from behind boulders…"

"Taking the British Troops off guard and eventually winning the war."

Sam's head had ping-ponged back and forth between the two until shook his head. "You two are crazy."

"Like a fox," Caleb chortled.

"I'm heading in for a shower," Dean said, making a beeline for the bedroom.

Glancing at his watch, Sam called out, "Leave me some hot water!" Then he caught the incredulous expression on Caleb's face. "Oh, I forgot; we're at the Westin."

* * *

Piruz smiled as he stepped inside the massive home that allowed strangers to stay within, a concept he understood, as during his time opening one's home to travelers had been expected. Of course, one usually didn't offer recompense, but this was a new era. He knew Kehoe House history declared the house to be old, but to him it was a marvel of the modern.

After his encounter in Huntsville, he had decided to go across to the coast instead up directly upward toward his destination. He'd arrived in Savannah after the dawn. The hostess of this dwelling had been surprised when he wanted a room so early in the day, saying the rooms weren't _clean_. She had no idea what dirty was. When he added his request for a room that overlooked the water, she conceded that there was a room that hadn't been rented the night before. When she suggested he have breakfast while she had the room readied for him, he'd been charming and agreed.

He found the food of this era either lacking in taste or overly salted. But he enjoyed something called a pan cake, which was apparently eaten after being drenched in tree sap. Odd though this sounded, he enjoyed it immensely. After finishing his meal, he was escorted upstairs by a young man who led him into a magnificent room.

The suite was massive, with an intimate sitting area near a fire place along one wall with an entertainment screen sitting on a dark wood console nearby. There was a wide table for meals, and a smooth, polished desk for work. Along the other side of the room was a light colored dresser and grand, four-poster bed. Walking forward, he placed his bags on the chest at the end of the bed, and ran his palms over the soft cover that lay over the mattress. Smiling, he turned his attention to the window. Having grown up in the desert, he knew he would never get enough of seeing clear blue water. When he'd first seen the ocean, he thought the world was boundless. The passions of the waves, pounding onto the shore only to recede back into the depths; he'd been in awe. And while he preferred the ocean to all other bodies of water, standing here at the window and staring out at the river in Savannah was also tranquil.

With a sigh, he returned to the bed, picked up a large, leather case and carried it over to the table. The first thing he needed to do before getting some sleep was to protect the boxes. Merlin's Child knew he was placing them strategically around the country, and he probably knew where. Opening his case, he pulled out the large parchment. Murmuring an incantation and moving his hand over the surface, a map of the country appeared. Turning to his leather case, he removed a silver bowl, pestle and mortar. Joining these items on the table were two silver spoons and several slender silk sacks with various herbs and spices inside. Expertly Piruz measured ingredients into the bowls, then added spices ground into dust by his pestle. When he finished the potion, he murmured an incantation while he slowly poured the mixture onto a silver platter etched with intricate runes and sigils. Once this was finished, Piruz hung the map up on the wall and voiced a second incantation that had the Chaos symbol appearing, its points flaring out from the center.

He began his last incantation while setting a flame to the ingredients, sending a multicolored mist into the air. Touching on the city named Baltimore on the map, Piruz closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath, cloaking the boxes from anyone attempting to sense them. Moving on, he repeated his actions until he had cloaked all the boxes in every city he'd marked. Finally, he sat in one of the chairs near the table, spent.

Eyeing his map, he nodded. The boxes were safe, there was time to remake this world. He'd waited centuries after Merlin's interference, and he could wait a little longer while he took Merlin's champions out of play. Did he want to kill them? No, they were honorable men. But he couldn't have them as a distraction. If he could, he would neutralize them. If that became impossible, they would die for the sake of the new world.

* * *

Onida sat in the plush jetliner seat with her eyes closed, focusing on downtown Anaheim searching for a small glowing circle or square with a darker center. That would be the energy outside the boxes and the cocobolo wood itself.

"How is the new spell?" Joshua asked, leaning across the aisle.

"Much better," Onida murmured. "The light isn't overwhelming, and most of the energy particles are muted. So I'm just looking for compacted light rings around a dark core."

"Exactly. Let the potion quiet all the extraneous energy."

Onida nodded and continued to follow the energy particles down, filtering out the lights as they got increasingly dense. Focus on Anaheim's city center, she thought to herself. Ignore everything else. Suddenly in the dense structures of downtown, she saw a spiral of lights with a dark core. "I see one, I see one!" Her hand flailed out and was caught by someone. "What do I do?! I'm not psychic, I can't see the street signs. I just see the box."

"But we know it's there," Joshua stated, excitement in his voice. "It's confirmation that the boxes are in the cities."

"So what do I do?"

Joshua looked over at Adam.

"Uh, can you tell different types of energy from one another?" Adam asked.

"You mean human from solid objects?"

"Yes, and other things, like food, garbage, trash cans and the like."

"Um, I don't know. I used to be able to tell the trees from the witches, the caves from the mountains. I can try." Onida tried to figure out where the box was. "Uh, I think it's near a club, because there's shiny glass. Could be liqueur bottles." Suddenly she exclaimed, "Ooh, there's another one!" Then just as she saw the second box, both winked out of existence. "What?" she exclaimed in confusion.

"What happened," Joshua asked.

Onida looked around a bit, then pulled back. Opening her eyes, she said, "The box just disappeared."

"What? You mean you couldn't find it again?" Adam asked.

"I was afraid of this," Joshua stated with a sigh.

"What?" Onida asked.

Adam suddenly understood. "The sorcerer hid it."

Joshua nodded. "Dean, Caleb and Sam confronted him last night, and apparently Dean found a box hidden at a club in Huntsville Alabama."

"So he got spooked and hid the boxes," Adam stated.

Onida stared from Adam to Joshua, then cried, "Yah delah! We spent hours yesterday trying to find a way to detect the boxes, and just as we get it, our mystery man pulls down the veil."

"Yah delah?" Adam echoed, frowning.

"Yakama curse," Onida fumed.

"Oh," Adam nodded. "I haven't heard that one before."

"You couldn't detect the boxes at all?" Joshua asked.

Onida shook her head. "They were just gone."

"A cloaking spell," Adam said.

"Can we find them some other way?" Onida asked.

"Caleb has already sent teams to the six cities to search for the boxes," Joshua said. "We'd hoped to help identify where the boxes are, but now they'll have to search manually."

"Won't that take a long time?" Onida asked.

"Probably, but we have a good idea of which clubs this man has chosen to hide the boxes; large clubs with lots of noise and music, plenty of people."

"The hip places," Adam added.

Joshua nodded. "If they're there, we'll find them."

* * *

_Interstate 40 to Charlotte NC_

"Let's stop," Sam said from the back seat. He'd been working on translating the smaller symbols between the four central lines on the box since they'd gotten on the road four hours ago, and he wanted to stretch his legs and use the bathroom.

"Agreed," Caleb said, stretching.

Dean glanced at his brother in the rearview mirror and nodded. A couple miles down the road he pulled into a truck stop, and all three crawled stiffly from the car. Caleb walked off, cell in hand to call Onida. Sam headed for the convenience store and the bathroom. Dean went to the pumps and inserted his credit card in the slot. After a moment, he picked up the fuel pump and started filling his tank.

_Child…._

Startled, Dean spun around and surveyed the parking lot, his sharp gaze covering every inch of the pump area, the trucks, the store front and the fields that framed the property. The truck stop was lightly populated. Though there were a few cars around, none were in his immediate vicinity. Frowning, he tilted his head slightly and listened intently. The voice hadn't been inside his head; he knew what that felt like. No, the voice had just been there, like some damned ventriloquist, only without the ventriloquist _or_ the dummy being present. And there came the voice again…

_Child…._

"You rang?" Dean said, staring around the parking lot again. There was silence as though Piruz was trying to figure out when he meant. He was okay with that. He wasn't thrilled with being called _child_.

_Want to talk._

"You can't get inside my head," Dean stated softly.

The tone of the reply was stilted, as though speaking English was new. _Am not inside head. Yet ears hear._

"Using magic, huh? Like what, throwing your voice? Neat parlor trick." Dean had no intention of letting this guy know he could speak Latin. Glancing around, he was glad to see that most cars refueling were a few slots away. If this guy was using magic to project his voice, there was the possibility he could be overheard and he didn't relish explaining a disembodied voice.

_Not trick…_

"Magic, huh?" Dean stated. "Pretty good. We have magic too."

There was a sound of laughter in the air. _Young one, te non noverunt vera magica. At ego ostendam tibi. (Young one, you do not know true magic. But I will show you.)_

"Dean?"

Dean heard the shout and turned to see Caleb moving quickly across the parking lot.

_Soon, Child, soon…_

Caleb refrained from drawing his gun when he neared the Impala, but his hand was definitely on the trigger as he surveyed the vehicles around the other pumps. Suddenly he swore and slammed down his blocks, cutting off the psychic attack aimed at him. "Take that," he muttered, putting a hand on the car for support.

"You all right?" Dean asked, rushing around the car.

"Yeah," Caleb said, standing upright. He waved a hand past his ear. "Mr. I'm-so-powerful tried to get inside my head. I showed him the door."

Dean's eyes jerked toward the convenience store. Quickly he started jogging in that direction, calling over his shoulder, "Can you get the pump?"

Just then the pump clicked off. Caleb quickly replaced the nozzle and the gas cap. He'd just started for the store when Sam and Dean exited the building "You all right?" he called.

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I was getting some coffee when someone tried to get inside my head. I slammed the door and he left."

Caleb frowned. "You think he was testing our fortifications? Like a salvo across the bow of a ship?"

Sam smiled at Caleb's description. "Maybe. I caught a glimpse of him, thought. He's powerful."

"And gifted in magic," Caleb said. "Maybe he let me see, maybe I saw more than he intended. But he's very gifted in the arts, has had years…" he broke off and frowned, "no, hundreds of years of experience." Looking to Dean, he said, "You were right. This guy is very old."

"How can someone be hundreds of years old?" Sam asked.

"Someone tried extending their life at my expense year ago," Caleb reminded them, thinking back to Agatha Hennings. "Who knows how many times this guy has leapfrogged over people to stay alive."

Dean stared into the distance, not looking at anything really, just thinking over their situation. He had a feeling they hadn't the vaguest idea of how strong this man was, nor even the remotest notion of what he had planned. Pulling in a breath, he said, "Josh is flying into Charlotte this afternoon. We've got three hours to get there. Then we'll go someplace and talk."

"You want to check into a hotel?" Caleb asked as they walked back to the car.

"I'm not sure," Dean said, frowning. Looking at Sam, he asked, "Do you think he could have seen that we know about Raleigh in your mind before you kicked him out? Or you?" his gaze swung in Caleb's direction.

"I don't think so," Sam said. "My mind wasn't on where we were going. It was on coffee," he finished with a smile.

"I was thinking about Onida," Caleb said.

"Then yeah, let's stay in Charlotte," Dean stated. "You two want anything before we hit the road?"

"I'm going back for the coffee," Sam stated. "I'm going to need it."

"I'm with you," Caleb agreed. Turning to Dean, he said, "You want the usual?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean said, watching the pair walk away. Turning, he went back to the car. If this guy was as powerful as he feared, he wondered how in the hell they were going to stop him.

* * *

Ben headed for his office at the hospital. He had a two hour break before rotations, and he wanted to check his email to see if anyone on the Brotherhood Medical pipeline had any clues on his descriptions of the brain disruptions David Lassiter, Caleb and Sam had experienced.

The moment he got into his office, however, the phone rang with a nurse asking for a consult. A second page had him returning to the floor to sign a prescription for a post operative patient in pain. When he returned to his office he got another call. After the fifth, he had to phone Doctor Burleson on his cell and find out where the hell he was and why he wasn't doing his on-call duties. After an apologetic Burleson said he'd forgotten to turn on his pager, Ben was finally able to open his email and check out the responses to his inquiries.

To say they were underwhelming was an understatement. No one could offer a supernatural reason for the brain function disruptions he described. A few doctors suggested a magical spell, three said a potion made for confusion. Two doctors suggested that Djinns disrupted the brain, though that was more of an altered reality than what happened. After reading through several suggested causes, from the possible to the ludicrous, it was the opinion offered by Doctor Yosef Dahan that got Ben's attention. After clarifying that he had no supernatural knowledge on the subject, he suggested the symptoms sounded a lot like either schizophrenia, which resulted in cognitive issues and disorganized thinking, or epilepsy, which caused electrical storms in the brain. He suggested treating the symptoms rather than flailing around for a cause or a label. _Treat the symptoms even if diagnosing the cause proves difficult. Y. Dahan._

Ben could have kicked himself. He'd been so caught in figuring out what happened, he hadn't been focusing on how to solve the problem should it happen again. Yosef Dahan was right. He didn't need a definitive diagnosis to treat what happened to Caleb and Sam. The brain worked in specific ways, and whatever had happened had disrupted those functions on a massive scale. There were drugs that could stabilize brain functions, and he could treat that.

Grabbing a notepad and paper, he started writing down what type of drugs would be needed if there whatever was happening across the country needed nationwide treatment. While he couldn't let hospitals across the country know what might happen, he could alert the Brotherhood Medical Network.

When he finished, he sent out a general email asking his team to have these drugs ready, or find out where the supplies could be ordered in a hurry. He then sent an email to his father, saying he thought he'd figured out a way to treat whatever happened to Caleb and Sam, and outlined his plan to get the medical network prepped.

Once those communications were sent, Ben checked his own hospital's stock levels of Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, Trilafon, Mellaril, Navane, and a host of other drugs both old and new to treat schizophrenia. He then checked on the hospitals supply of drugs prescribed for seizures. While not in massive quantities, he knew he could get more if it was needed. Satisfied, he sent a text to Dean saying he was ready if his dad needed him; anytime, anywhere.

* * *

Joshua stood outside the private terminal arrivals gate at Charlotte Douglas International Airport, keeping a watch out for Dean's beloved Impala. He couldn't believe that, even after all these years, Dean refused to drive anything else. Thankfully, Adam was sitting in a rented SUV up near baggage claim. Though all their luggage had been carry-on, as flying on Caleb's Hawker allowed, baggage claim was a handy place to park without having to go to the lot. However, if Dean didn't arrive in a timely manner, security would insist Adam move. Suddenly he saw the Impala coming in his direction. When the car pulled up to the curb, he climbed inside and said, "We're up ahead."

Dean wound his way through the outgoing vehicles, and glanced in the rear view mirror when Adam pulled in behind him. Soon he was in the long line of cars streaming away from the airport. When he hit US 485, he asked Caleb, "Where to?"

"The Kimpton Tryon Hotel on South Church Street," Caleb said. "I booked four rooms on the ninth floor."

Dean nodded and let Sam guide him through the streets to the hotel. When they reached the hotel, they got checked in and went to their rooms; Sam and Dean in one, Caleb and Onida in another, one for Joshua and one for Adam. When everyone was settled, Caleb knocked on Dean and Sam's room door.

Upon entering, he asked, "We need to meet. You want to make this a Triad/Advisor only meeting, or include Adam and Onida?"

Dean thought about that. Adam and Onida were already working with Joshua on how to discover the boxes, they knew there was writing on the top. Should they be included even more in this hunt? While not an official Brotherhood member, Onida had certainly gone on many hunts, and Adam's contribution to the hunt on the Yakama Indian Reservation last year had been phenomenal. Nodding to himself, he said, "Everyone. They're both already involved."

"Then we meet in my suite in fifteen," Caleb said, heading out the door.

Sam looked at Dean. "You sure you want to bring Adam in on this?"

"He's already been working with Joshua to find a way for Onida to see the boxes." Looking at his brother, Dean said, "After our last hunt, Adam adopted two children, he uprooted himself from the home he's known his entire life and moved to be near Joshua so those kids could have a home and be connected to Nicholas. He's become a friend I trust."

Those last words were the clincher for Sam. There were very few outsides to their world that Dean would say he trusted. Smiling, he nodded. "Then let's get to figuring all this out."

They met in the main living room of Caleb's suite and sat around the large dining room table.

Joshua started by telling them how he and Adam had worked on finding a way for Onida to track the boxes. "We found a way that worked and Onida could see them, but the boxes are now gone."

"Piruz cloaked them," Sam stated. Looking to Dean and Caleb, he continued, "We tipped him off."

Joshua nodded. "That's what we believe. So anyone looking for them will have to do so the old fashioned way; location by location. I considered that maybe James could find them, giving his clairvoyant skills. However, if the boxes are magically masked, I don't believe he'd be able to find them either."

"I've got teams on the ground searching for the boxes," Caleb said. "But it's going to be tough in the larger cities. There aren't as many clubs in Rockland, Ashland and Kennebunkport."

Dean nodded before looking to Sam. "You got anything on the translation?" He knew Sam had been on the phone with Alison the entire last leg of their trip to Charlotte. And he could tell that his brother was excited.

Sam nodded, fierce interest on his face. "Alison is double checking everything we found, just to make sure this is right. But the top line says _Hidden in space and time_. The symbol under space changes the spelling, so that it actually reads; _Hidden in place_. The glyph under _time_ changes that word meaning and gives it a future tense, so it becomes _Hidden until time ends_."

"Okay, okay," Dean interrupted, waving his hand. "Enough with the geek. You can impress Joshua and Adam later. What's the new translation?"

Sam looked affronted. "I put a lot of time in on this."

Dean face softened. "And I want to hear all about it. But right now, we've got people spread all across the country looking for boxes with a mystery surprise inside. I've got Pierre…"

"Piruz," Sam interjected.

"Piruz talking to me from thin air, and I'd like to know what we're up against."

Giving a huge sigh, Sam relented. "All right, while we still don't know about the corner glyphs nor the symbols along the bottom of the lid, but here's how the glyphs, symbols and runes between the center four lines read:

_Hidden in place until time ends,_

_First home of mankind _

_Knowledge forbidden yet sought_

_Warning unheeded, consequences untold: Remain hidden_

Sam looked up to find everyone staring at him.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Sam looked down at the verses. "We're going to need to break it down, look at the sentences and how they relate to one another."

"So what was the first home of mankind?" Joshua asked. Looking at Sam, he said, "Could that be the very first city? First historically recorded city, at any rate."

Sam turned to his computer and started typing. "Elijah would know more about this than me, and I don't know if there are ancient manuscripts that have additional data, but…" he picked up his glasses and scanned the screen. "There are multiple candidates for the first city in the world, but the front runners are Eridu in Sumar, Göbekli Tepe in Anatolia and Jericho, which is one of the oldest cities still inhabited."

"What about that city from Raiders?" Caleb asked.

"Petra?" Sam asked, typing. "Uh, according to National Geographic, Petra is two thousand years younger than Göbekli Tepe."

"So, why talk about mankind's first city?" Caleb asked.

"It has to be tied to the third line," Sam stated. "_Knowledge forbidden yet sought._ Maybe whoever made the boxes sought knowledge that shouldn't be used or known."

"Like?" Caleb asked.

"Like dark magics, possibly," Joshua said. "This sorcerer, Piruz, he's obviously working a powerful spell of some kind."

"On a massive scale," Sam added. He'd been thinking along those same lines.

Joshua continued, "Maybe these boxes contain something that would aid in his quest, a knowledge that shouldn't be known."

"Were dark magics even used when people lived in those early cities?" Dean asked.

"Magic and natural arts have been used for centuries," Onida stated, interjecting herself into the conversation for the first time. "The Yakama people are perfect examples of magic and the natural sciences which have been passed down through generations."

Adam said, "The Mattaponi people also have a long history of magic."

Sam's fingers flew across the keyboard as he searched the Internet. "Most ancient civilizations believed in magics, sorcery, visions and signs. Those beliefs were interwoven with their religious beliefs and the gods of the age. It's very possible their skills in magic were far superior to ours today."

"Even more would the dark magical arts be forbidden in those cultures," Joshua commented, "since Seers and Wise Men were intricately entwined with their religions and as consultants and advisors to their civilization's leadership."

"People have always realized what's good and bad," Dean said thoughtfully. "Most people would have rejected the dark arts even in ancient times."

Caleb frowned. "So we think these boxes may hold a dark magic which is contained in the cocobolo wood?"

"Maybe," Sam said. "The last line warns that whatever is inside should remain hidden. I don't know what the line along the bottom or the four symbols in the corners say, but they may give us more insight into what's inside the box."

"Or how to use it," Caleb added.

"That's possible," Joshua mused. "If so, then our guest from ancient times already seems to understand how to use them."

"May I see that?" Adam asked, holding out his hand for the thin parchment Sam was holding.

Sam handed over the rubbing.

Adam studied the small glyphs. After a moment he sighed. "Sorry," he said, handing the paper back. "Since many Eastern languages are represented, I wondered if there might be some ancient South American or Indian dialects. Quechua is the oldest known written language of South America; it influenced many of the Native tribes here."

"Nothing?"

Adam shook his head.

"Then at this time, it appears all the languages on the box have their origins in the Middle East, in all probability like our mystery man," Sam said, smiling at his brother, who had already deduced the man was middle eastern.

"Then we must double our efforts to understand the full translation of the lid," Joshua said.

"I'll check in with Alison again," Sam said. "Maybe the team has gotten further."

"Up till now I've been more focused on creating a spell that would allow Onida to see the boxes," Joshua said apologetically, "but Adam and I will scrutinize the symbols as well, see about their magical connections."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

"What are we going to do if we can't read the writing on the bottom?" Onida asked, looking around the table.

Every eye went to Dean, who said, "Open the box."

* * *

Daniel Rios and Joel Newbridge drove into Huntsville Alabama just before the end-of-day traffic. Interstate 565, however, was still crowded enough to give Joel time to survey the clubs lining the freeway.

"You want to stay here tonight and go on to Charlotte in the morning?" Daniel asked.

Joel looked around. They wouldn't be able to search the clubs until late tonight. "Stay. It's a seven-hour drive, more with stops for gas and coffee. I'd rather not do that after we search the clubs."

Daniel swung the Chevy toward the airport, where he knew there were several middle end hotels to choose from. "Then let's get a hotel and rest a bit, head out around ten tonight. Hopefully the crowds will provide cover for us so we can search for the boxes."

They drove in silence for a bit before Joel looked up from his cell and said, "Huntsville isn't that big of a city, but they sure like their entertainment. There are dozens of clubs here."

"Caleb said ignore the Sports Pubs and the neighborhood bars, and focus on the clubs and bars with noise and lots of young people. I think he sent over some names."

"I've got them here," Joel said. "Dean took the box from…" he looked at a piece of paper on his hand, "Sammy T's, but the perp maybe have planted another later that night, so we'll check it out. Then there's Reflections Lounge and Entertainment. That's where Dean first saw him. They went back there and checked for a box, but it looks like our boy dug it up. We'll take a quick look anyway, make sure he didn't put it back before he blew town. But there's a crap ton of others."

Daniel took the next off ramp off the freeway. "Va a ser una noche larga."

"Damn right it's gonna be long night," Joel agreed.

**.**

The pair checked into a Best Western, then got a couple of hours sleep before leaving again to have a meal at one of the small restaurants near their hotel.

When they got their orders, Daniel dug into his chicken plate while eyeing his partner's meal of a burger and fries. "You're going to die of a heart attack if you don't start to eat better."

"I think the monsters will do me in first," Joel stated, giving his partner a fierce grin. "I plan on enjoying life while I can."

Daniel rolled his eyes. He and Joel both hunted full time. He'd first met his partner after Joel's wife had been killed by a banshee. Devastated and distraught, Joel had been on the fast track to personal destruction when Daniel intervened and told him he wasn't crazy, explained what was out there. Daniel himself had experienced loss when his fiancée had been murdered three years before. He'd brought Joel to Dean and Caleb, and Caleb had supervised Joel's training. The two of them had been partners ever since.

But he knew that someday he wanted to marry, to possibly have a family like the Dean. Daniel knew that Winchester had hunted since he was a child and had never thought he'd be in a position to have a family. It was to his great surprise that he did. Daniel held that possibility out before him like a beacon, and he wanted the same for Joel. They just needed a few more years, then he planned on getting his friend a wife.

Following their dinner, Joel texted Caleb saying they were now out looking for the boxes, promising to touch base when they'd finished. Their first stop was The Nook. It wasn't a large club, but Joel walked the boundary, searching for any disturbed earth while Daniel kept watch. The next three clubs they checked were built atop a cement foundation; therefore there was no earth around the outside in which to bury a box. To be thorough, however, they checked the base of the garbage cans and the nearby buildings.

When they got to Reflections, Daniel kept watch around the front of the club while Joel searched the rear. Finally, he came around and said, "Nada."

"Guess our boy didn't return."

"Would you? He might even have put the boxes in other places besides the clubs, since that's where he met up with Dean," Joel said, walking with Daniel to their vehicle. "He knows we're on to him."

"Maybe, but we've got to check them anyway," Daniel said.

"Agreed," Joel stated, starting the truck and pulling out onto the road.

They checked Sammy T's again, The Voodoo Lounge, Side Tracks Music Hall and so many others. At Club Forty7, they investigated both sides of the building, but Joel stopped them before they could search the back.

"Hang on." Sounds from behind the club had Joel taking a quick peek around the corner of the building. "There's a guy puking back here."

"Great," Daniel grimaced, making a face.

After ten minutes the guy's buddy came to the back door and shouted, "Come on, Ashton! Aren't you done yet?"

Joel looked around at Daniel and mouthed, _Ashton?_

Daniel grinned.

When the guy finally disappeared back inside, they walked around the side of the club.

"Don't go over there," Joel warned. "That's where the puke is."

"Hate to tell you, but there's probably puke all around here," Daniel stated, searching the ground near the building.

"Well, that pile's fresh, so avoid it," Joel muttered, squinting down at the base of the wall for disturbed earth. "I have to ride in the truck with you."

Daniel snorted out a laugh. Kneeling close to the west corner, he rummaged in some loose dirt before saying, "Hey, I feel something," then he carefully pulled the box from the ground. "Eureka!"

"'ahsant ya sadti."

Joel had his gun in his hand and aimed at the man standing behind them before Daniel had even risen. Daniel's weapon was in his hand a fraction of a second later.

The sight before them was the strangest either man had ever seen. A young man with dark hair and slight build, obviously one of the partiers from inside the club, was staring at them; eyes completely white, a fierce snarl on his face. How he had come up behind them was a mystery. One second the rear of the club was empty, the next, not.

"Thrall," Daniel murmured, covertly slipping the box into his pocket.

"Who are you?" Joel asked.

The man ignored the question.

Joel glanced at Daniel, then moved slightly to the left. If they were separated, there were two targets instead of one.

The man didn't move; merely watched them. Finally he opened his mouth. It was a moment before he said, "Latina?"

Daniel glanced at Joel before saying, "Español."

The man frowned a moment, then sighed. Taking a breath, he said, "Leave. Box."

Daniel shook his head. "Can't."

The man nodded sadly.

Suddenly Daniel found himself flying backwards about twelve yards, and crashing loudly into a cluster of trashcans stacked against a rickety fence by the convenience store next door to the club.

Joel was firing at the man, though it appeared none of the rounds were making contact. A second later his gun flew from his hand and he was flat on his back. "Damn it," he growled, pushing himself up. The moment he gained his footing the white-eyed man waved his hand, and Joel flew back another fifteen yards. "This is getting old," he muttered as he climbed to his feet once more. This time he zigzagged as he ran forward, hoping to make a more difficult target.

Daniel had disentangled himself from the trash cans, firing as he climbed free. They couldn't keep up this racket. The sounds of the crashing trash cans and gun fire would definitely be heard from the street, and it was sure to penetrate the blare of music inside the club any moment, bringing partiers into the line of fire. The man must have thought the same thing, for he waved a hand at Daniel, and Daniel's gun disappeared. "What the…?"

Joel was running toward Daniel when suddenly a spot of impenetrable darkness shone to Joel's left. Frowning, Daniel squinted. It was the size of a basketball. Joel was running and dodging, trying to make it harder for the man to track him. Shouting, Daniel yelled, "Watch out!" Dropping into a crouch, he yanked his backup piece from his ankle holster and began firing.

Joel glanced behind him and frowned, not seeing the window on his left.

Daniel grabbed a potion pack from his pocket, courtesy of Ryker, and hurled it at the man, thankful both Joshua and Ryker kept those hunters with an interest supplied with small Mylar packets of spells.

The white-eyed man stumbled back, but his face remained blank as he steadied his stance and started for Daniel.

Joel stuck a hand in his pocket for a packet, and that's when he saw it. Mouth dropped open in surprise. "What the…" he mumbled, utterly flabbergasted. Quickly he tried to zig away to the right … and then suddenly he wasn't in the alley behind the club any longer.

Daniel screamed as the darkened hole widened, then winked out; and Joel was gone. Skidding to a stop, Daniel stood there with his mouth hanging open.

The back door of the club opened and a few people spilled out, some drunk, some laughing; all talking loudly and asking what was going on.

The white-eyed man looked back at the door, waved a hand, and the group pouring outside suddenly turned around and went back in. Turing to Daniel, he walked over and held out his hand. Opening his mouth, a voice from inside him said, "Arca archa." _(The box.)_

Daniel's attention remained fixed on where Joel had been. But he had sensed the man's approach on his right. Instead of turning, he continued to stare as though in shock while his left hand shifted very slowly to his pocket and he fingered his last two spell packets.

The man stopped a few feet from Daniel, watched him for a moment, then a voice said again, "Arca archa!" _(The box!)_

Daniel turned his head toward the man, just his head, keeping his left arm from sight. "Who are you?"

The white-eyed man merely stood there, blank-faced and still.

Daniel stared directly into the white eyes and said, "I'm talking to the one inside this man. Who are you?" Again, the man didn't speak, so he said again, "¿Quién eres tú?"

After a moment, the man opened his mouth, and finally said, "Quis metus."

Daniel frowned. "¿Qué?" then again, "What?"

It was odd seeing this strangely blank person tilt his head like a bird, those eerie white eyes staring at him. But finally the man said, "Fear."

Daniel had his potions in his hand, but he still had to ask, "Where is he?" When the thrall didn't respond, he pointed to where Joel had been a moment before and repeated, "¿Donde esta el?"

The man cocked his head and repeated slowly, as though tasting the words, "¿Donde esta el…" Frowning a moment, he said, "He … is … "

Suddenly Daniel was in motion. Spinning, he hurled the two potion packets at the man. Then without waiting even a second to see whether the dual packs had knocked the man out, he pelted down the alley beside the club, running all out with everything he had. At the sidewalk he flung himself to the right in front of the convenience store, raced past a darkened store and to the bowling alley on the far side. There he dodged cars and people, slowing slightly when he got to the center of the parking lot, then he dove under a Honda Accord, a vehicle known to sit lower to the ground. He didn't want to be easily seen. People were milling around the lot, talking and drinking beer, flowing casually between the building and the parking lot. Snagging a masking pouch from inside his front shirt pocket, he slipped it around his neck. Hesitating only a moment, he peeked out from under the car. There were no feet in his general area, so he rolled out from under the Honda and under another couple vehicles until he was a few cars away from where he'd donned the masking pouch.

Hidden beneath what he thought was a Subaru, Daniel tried to still his wildly beating heart even as sorrow tore through his body. Even using a thrall, this sorcerer was dangerous; Caleb had told them to beware and watch out. He couldn't be caught, not with the box in his pocket. The masking spell needed to be enough to hide them both. Ryker did good work with spells and potions, he could trust them. Closing his eyes, Daniel forced himself to blank his mind and still his heart. He needed to be the breeze; unseen, unheard, unfound.

* * *

Piruz crashed back on the bed in his bedroom at Savannah's Kehoe House, panting and sweating. Those last potions had knocked him clean away from the body of the man he'd taken over. Slamming his fist into the mattress and swore, "ealayk allaeanat!"

Shoving himself up, he rushed back to his potions and bowls and tried to get back into his slave's body, but the man was quite dead. It would take far too much energy to raise him and use him again. Gripping the edge of the table, he hissed a long familiar curse, "Usella Mituti Ikkaly Baltuti!" _(Rise up the dead and consume the living!)_ Clenching his fists, he refrained from knocking all the bowls from the table. He did not want to create a disturbance in this place. When his anger was under control, he took a few measured steps back and sat atop the soft mattress. Those two men were from Merlin's Child; he had felt their intrusion. Cloaking the boxes prevented the warriors from seeking their positions by magical means; it didn't stop them from finding them physically.

Growling, he stood and paced the room. These followers of Merlin were starting to be a nuisance and a hindrance. While he was somewhat amused, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Merlin's Child knew not the depth of his plan, of that he was certain. Merlin himself hadn't known that. However, his plan would need a bit of revising. It wasn't enough to merely cloak the boxes, not anymore.

Going back to the table, he began to clear up the remains of his former work, setting the stage for the new. Putting his plan into action sooner than planned would not affect the outcome if he could finish the work in three days. If he couldn't, the spell would break down. But this generation of warriors, even with Merlin's seal of approval, was not like the magicians of old. In those days magic was an extension of one's self. In these modern days, technology was the extension and magics the appendage. Once the spell was active, he would need to deal with the children of Merlin. Cut off the head and the body dies.

With the tabletop clean, Piruz laid out six silver bowls; six cities. Stepping back, he knelt on the carpeted floor and said, "Ati me peta babka, ana harrani sa alaktasa la tarat erset la tari. Baraggal, sharaf earmali." _(Gatekeeper, open your gate for me to the road whose course does not turn back. Holy of Holies, honor my work.)_

Standing, he began chanting softly under his breath as he carefully ladled ingredients into the bowls, moving with deliberation and methodical movements. The creating of a potion was just as important as the potion itself. Every word said correctly, every ingredient added with precision, every mixture blended with care. Though excitement rippled along his skin like an electric current, he kept his focus. Centuries of practice made that easy. Yes, tonight his plan would be put into action, and tomorrow, he would deal with Merlin's Chosen.

* * *

Daniel didn't know how long he lay beneath the car in the parking lot, but the sounds of laughter and drinking had grown more raucous for awhile, and since then had waned. If he knew anything about bowling alleys, families came to bowl early in the evening, then traffic for partiers rose from ten o'clock on through the midnight hours. So he figured it had to be after one or close to two in the morning. Pulling in a slow breath, he knew he couldn't stay here all night. If he rolled out from under the car and the man was there, then so be it.

Cautiously and carefully, Daniel scooted to the edge of the car and looked out. There were no shoes or legs that he could see, so he rolled out from under the car frame. Scrambling quietly into a crouched position, he surveyed the lot. Edging to the back of the car for a look, then up to the front to check over the hood. The man he and Joel had met earlier had been slender, but tall. He would see him if he were here waiting. Slowly he stood stiffly and edged around the lot toward the bowling alley. A tipsy man stopped him, offering a beer, which he declined with a smile, encouraging the guy to have a good time. When he got to the building, he jogged around the side to the back. There were open spaces between the bowling alley and the convenience store, though a rickety fence stood between the convenience store and the club. It was along that fence that the garbage cans had stood.

Nodding once to himself, he jogged along the rear of the two buildings until he got to the fence. Lights were coming from the back of the club, and a look over the top of the fence showed several policemen and plain clothed detectives working a crime scene. They had to be investigating the man whom the witch had used as a thrall. The strain must have killed him, and that meant the witch was no longer searching for him.

Turning, he walked down the alley beside the convenience store and out onto the street where dozens of people were milling around and talking about the murder behind the club. As casually as possibly, he walked toward his and Joel's Chevy, making sure to keep an eye out for any other white-eyed zombies.

It wasn't until he was in the truck and driving away from the club that he released the tight grip he'd had on his emotions. Joel was gone. He couldn't help replaying Joel's comment about the monsters getting him first, so he was going to enjoy his burger. Tears welled in Daniel's eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Vision blurred, he pulled off to the side of the road until he could see properly. Joel, so quick with a laugh, so earnest in wanting to learn Spanish though he was atrocious at it, so sentimental when he thought Daniel wasn't looking.

Finally Daniel ran a hand over his wet face and scrounged around for some napkins to blow his nose. He stared out the window of the truck for a long time before he looked around for the list he and Joel had been working on. Hunters picked up the pieces and carried on. He still had a job to do. Snagging a pen from the dash, he circled Club Forty7 and put _one_ beside it. After he typed the next location into his GPS, he glanced over his left shoulder and pulled back onto the road.

**.**

It was close to three in the morning when he pulled into the lot of the Best Western. Instead of going in, he just sat there in silence for several minutes before he finally pulled out his phone.

"Where have you two been?" Caleb demanded the moment he picked up. His voice was rough with weariness and sleep. "You should have checked in hours ago. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Daniel said woodenly.

Instantly Caleb knew. "Joel?"

"Gone."

There was a long, low sigh. "Damn it," Caleb murmured. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. Can you tell me what happened, or do you need some rest first?"

"Let me get it out," Daniel said, and he told Caleb about meeting up with the man who'd been taken captive by another. Yet his power had been felt, how their potions did enough to allow him to escape. Then about how a dark light had chased Joel and took him away.

Caleb frowned. He remembered Dean saying something about a light the night he'd met up with Piruz.

"I checked all the clubs in Huntsville but found only one box. I even rechecked Reflections, thinking he might have gone back there after you guys blew town. Nada. If our mystery man planted another, he didn't do it at one of the clubs."

"Thank you," Caleb said sincerely. "Are you sleeping, or coming here?" He knew that sleep would be the last thing on Daniel's mind.

"I'm checking out and coming your way," Daniel stated.

"I'll text you the hotel address and have a room waiting."

"Thank you," murmured Daniel, quietly closing the phone. He didn't want to go up to their room, he didn't want to pack up Joel's belongings. But it needed to be done. Stowing his emotions, he went inside and dealt with their duffels and computers, keeping a hard lockdown on his emotions. At the front desk he told the attendant there had been a family emergency and they needed to leave. The night manager gave them a break on the room and hoped all was well. After stowing Joel's things in the truck's narrow backseat area, he climbed behind the wheel and pulled away from the hotel.

Navigating the highway through Huntsville kept his mind occupied until he was on the open freeway. He decided to take US 24 up to Interstate 40. The Interstates were well traveled and there would be little in the way of distractions or traffic.

The road slid beneath his tires and the darkness outside matched his heart. He'd hunted alone before, years ago. But Joel had been his partner for nearly twenty years. Not having his friend by his side, not hearing his atrocious Spanish accent, not hearing his off-key singing when his ear buds were in and he was listening to one of his silly punk stations… It was unbearable; he couldn't take the silence even one second more. Leaning forward, he fingered the radio dial and whispered, "I miss you, Joel."

.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 13

.

Caleb sat slumped on the edge of his bed, his heart aching. Daniel Rios and Joel Neubridge were a fixture in the hunting world. They'd been partners for more than twenty years, and were as reliable as any people he'd ever seen. Loosing Joel was a blow.

"I'm sorry."

Caleb turned to Onida, who had woken and was now sitting up, watching him. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed. "Thanks. I can't believe Joel is gone."

"We met him when we did the poltergeist hunt, right?"

Caleb nodded. "He and Daniel crossed our path going on another hunt."

"I liked him."

"Yeah." Caleb smiled. "Daniel brought him to me over twenty years ago after his wife was killed. I trained him for over a year, made sure he wouldn't put Daniel in danger if they hunted together." Shaking his head, he continued, "They were such a good team."

Onida nodded, her heart going out to Caleb. Lying back, she murmured, "Come here."

Caleb turned and crawled back under the covers and welcomed Onida's arms around him. "Thanks, for being here," he whispered.

"I'll always be here."

* * *

Raylan Tanner walked along the wall of the Bravo Night Club. It had been a long night. This was the twenty-ninth club he and Kace had checked so far, and they had many more to go. Many of the clubs were situated over cement foundations. At first he'd been inclined to simply move on to the next name on the list, but Kace thought they should check them anyway. Maybe there was a hole in the foundation of the building or behind a dumpster that had been used. So far that hadn't been the case, but they continued to be vigilant; one on watch, one looking for the boxes.

Blush Club was another hot spot set on a cement foundation. This time Kace was on watch and he was searching the ground for breaks in the concrete or holes. Eyes down, he suddenly felt someone at his back and knew instantly it wasn't Kace. Spinning, he saw seven men standing some ten yards away, baseball bats in their hands. "Gentlemen," he said, eyes alert for any move. "Can I help you?"

"We're here to help you," said a man with black, slicked back hair and a bushy mustache.

"Yeah?" Raylan said, wondering where Kace was. "How?"

"Introducing you to keeping your nose outta other people's business."

Raylan cocked his head, wondering if this moron knew what evil he was working for.

"If you're wondering about your friend," the man continued, "he ain't gonna be much help."

Raylan's heart tripped quickly; he hoped Kace wasn't dead. Standing to his full height of six-foot-four-inches, he said, "I'm not going to make it easy."

Several of the men grinned, and the front man said, "Wasn't expectin' you to," and he moved in.

Raylan kept the wall at his back, narrowing any opening for his attackers to get behind him. Still, he had four taking swings at the same time. Snatching up a nearby garbage can lid, he fended off two of the blows while kicking another attacker back with his heavily booted foot. The fourth, however, delivered a stinging whack to the top of his right shoulder as he hunched slightly inward. He lashed out with his foot again, catching one attacker on the kneecap, sending the man quickly to the ground. He snatched the man's bat as he fell and used it to ward off other blows. He got another attacker on the side of the head, and the man fell away, unconscious. Five to go, thought Raylan.

Another bat struck his shoulder, then glanced off the side of his head, sending him stumbling to the side, slightly dazed. But he recovered quickly, brought the trash can lid up and rammed it into two attackers. Unfortunately, this maneuver took him a few feet from the wall, and two of his assailants circled around, cutting off his retreat. Another bat hit his back and he stumbled forward, using his own bat and the trashcan lid to clear a space and shove more thugs away. A third blow had him nearly falling to the ground as his own bat connected with the side of another head, knocking that attacker out. But he knew his time was running out. He'd taken out three men. Maybe he could get one more before he went down.

Suddenly there was a siren blare and flashing lights shone brightly against the dingy walls and ground between the buildings. Raylan dropped onto all fours as his startled attackers attempted to escape through the rear of the alley. However, there was a high chain linked fence cutting off their escape. They turned and rushed the cars, but were quickly subdued by the suited men swarming from the three vehicles.

Raylan pushed himself to his knees, hunching slightly to support his ribs. He heard footsteps and glanced up at a clean-cut, suited young man with spit-and-polished hair and a gun. The man smiled and held out his hand.

"Nice timing," Raylan remarked, climbing slowly to his feet. "Thank you." Wheezing slightly due to the blows to his back, ribs and shoulders, he gingerly wiped at the blood dripping from what was probably a gash on his forehead. "Who are you?"

"Jacob Whittell, FBI," Jacob said with a smile. "And thank the Guardian," he revealed softly. "Dean asked us to keep an eye on you two in case someone tried to stop you from getting the boxes."

Raylan's mouth dropped open. "Seriously?" His eyes drifted past the young man to the other five suited men handcuffing the hoodlums and leading them to patrol cars waiting on the street. "How many are Brotherhood?"

"I'm sorry, but that's confidential," Jacob said. "I wouldn't have interfered if it weren't necessary."

"How did you find us?"

"I was tracking your phones. When you both stayed in one place too long, I knew something was up and came to help."

Raylan nodded and said, "Thanks. How's Kace?"

"Concussion, broken collar bone, dislocated kneecap. He's on his way to the hospital, which is where you're going," Jacob stated, putting a supportive hand under Raylan's elbow.

Raylan stepped back and shook his head. "I've got a lot of ground to cover."

"You need to get those ribs bound and your head checked for a concussion. I go off duty in two hours. I'll help you with the other clubs after you've been cleared by the doctors."

Sighing, Raylan nodded. "Before we go, I need to check in with Caleb." Giving the spit-and-polished young man a narrowed-eyed look, he asked, "Should I mention you?"

"Better keep that to yourself. We work for the Guardian," Jacob said, and walked away.

"Ain't that a kick in the pants," Raylan murmured, pulling out his cell.

* * *

A cell rang. Instantly awake, Dean snatched his phone off the bedside table and touched the screen, silencing the ring. Taking the phone into the main room of the suite Caleb had booked for him and Sam, he answered, "Yeah?"

"We've got a problem."

Dean recognized the unlisted number and knew Jacob was on the other end of the line. "Go on."

"The boxes are irretrievable at this time."

"How?" Dean asked softly.

There were some sounds, possibly voices, then Jacob came back on, saying, "I've got to be quick. I need to report to the section chief about a couple of brawls I was involved in."

"Raylan?"

"Yes."

"Are you in trouble?" Dean asked anxiously.

"No," Jacob said quickly. "But I called in support and it needs to be explained. There's no cause for concern, and Raylan will call Caleb and give a full update."

"Good, I'm glad you're all right."

Jacob smiled. He loved that Dean's first concern was always for his and the others welfare. "Raylan and Kace retrieved one box at twenty-three hundred hours. Following a brawl, he needed medical treatment, and following said treatment I joined him in searching for additional boxes."

Dean refrained from asking about Kace, knowing he would hear the full details from Caleb.

"We found a second box at zero-two-thirty hours and were unable to retrieve it, since it was welded to the ground."

"Welded, how?"

"Unsure, but magically seems the best answer, as there were no bolts, wires or nails. And the box was warm."

Dean didn't like the sound of that. But he knew Jacob needed to make his report to his boss, so he said, "Thank you for backing Raylan and for watching out for the Brotherhood. Deus sit apud vos." _(God be with you.)_

"Et vobiscum," Jacob replied before hanging up.

Dean always felt silly saying the Latin with his personal guard, but it was a long standing tradition among Guardians, and he didn't feel he had the right to change it. Plus, the Harvard educated Jacob liked the tradition, and he valued that more than his own feelings.

Sitting on the arm of the couch, Dean thought over what Jacob had revealed; the boxes were now irretrievable. So their plan of gathering them to stop Piruz' spell was now scrapped. So not only had Piruz cloaked the boxes, he'd taken measures to protect them from being harvested by the Brotherhood. That made it more important than ever to find out what the box lids meant. Sam said there were minute differences in the glyphs and sigils on the second box. Brian, then Sam and Alison had done an admirable job in translating so much of the lid on the first box in such a short time. But if it was necessary to do the same to _every_ box, it would take more time than they had. Alison speculated that the minute difference on the second lid were from age. He sincerely hoped that was true. The box in Daniel's possession would resolve that issue. If it had discrepancies from both the other boxes, they were screwed.

Glancing down at his cell, he noted it was four-thirty in the morning. That would make it two-thirty in Minnesota. Making the decision, he dialed Jody.

"Hey," Jody said. There was music, din and chatter in the background.

"Have you found a box?" Dean asked.

"I was just about to text you," Jody said. "Hang on; I'm heading to the car." A few seconds later a door opened and slammed and Jody was back on. "Mark and I found two boxes: one at The Height's Hall and Club, the other behind The Velveteen Speakeasy. We could get neither out of the ground. We tried prying them up, digging around them, digging _under_ them; they just stayed right where they were."

Dean sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I figured.

"Should we continue on?"

"No, go get some sleep. We'll need to come up with a new plan."

"Do you want me to contact David in…" the unmistakable sound of a yawn interrupted Jody's words. "Sorry. Rockland?"

"I'll send out a text. Go to bed."

"Deal," Jody said. "Night."

Dean cut the connection, then sent a text to Maggie Cole in Ashland and David Weiss in Rockland, telling them to stop checking for the boxes. Within two minutes answering texts came back acknowledging the first and saying good night. After a second, he shrugged and texted Ethan Matthews the same news. Since it was almost five in the morning, Dean figured Caleb's team in Baltimore were already asleep, so he didn't text them. Next he sent Caleb a text, telling him he'd pulled the box retrieval teams from the field, all except the Baltimore team, since they were likely in bed. Immediately a text came back: _I'm coming over_. Dean quickly replied, _No need. We'll go over in the morning. Get some sleep._ At first he thought Caleb was going to come anyway, but finally his cell chimed with, _Ten o'clock, my room_. Dean sent back, _done_.

Yawning, Dean went back into the bedroom where Sam was still sleeping. Quietly he climbed back in bed and pulled the covers up over his shoulders. However, he didn't immediately go back to sleep. Piruz had cloaked the boxes, then he'd gone the extra mile to make them irretrievable. Why do that unless they were important and he knew they would be searching for them. Damn, he hated being predictable. But then, there was really no other course they could have taken.

"What happened?"

Dean turned his head to see Sam watching him. Shifting onto his side, he said, "The boxes are cemented to the ground somehow, so we can't retrieve them."

Despite being half asleep, Sam's eyes widened. "They're stuck to the ground?"

"Yeah."

"Got an idea of what to do now?"

"No, but we'll figure it out."

Sam nodded, then yawned.

Smiling, Dean said, "Get some sleep. We're going to need it."

"Yeah," Sam murmured. "Night Dean."

"Night Sammy."

Dean listened as Sam's breathing deepened. Slowly he maneuvered onto his back again and stared at the ceiling. _Jim_, he thought. _I think we're going to need some help with this one_. Sighing, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. Sam wasn't the only one who was going to need the rest. He had a feeling this hunt was going to get real complicated, real fast.

* * *

It was just before nine in the morning, and Sam was sitting at the table in his and Dean's suite, reading through several police reports forwarded from Alison via email. It was curious that the boxes were no longer retrievable, but not unexpected. The witch was powerful, and he would take steps to ensure his spell plans went through. Dean had some good insight into this guy, and he wanted to discuss their next move. But his brother's breathing had been deep and even when he'd woken at eight. Climbing over duffels and shoes as quietly as possible, he'd left the room still in his sweats. He could take a shower and get dressed later. Dean's sleep had been choppy the last three nights and he needed the rest. In truth, they all needed some undisturbed sleep. But for the moment, he was reading through police reports, a hot cup of coffee for company.

Diana Ballard had written a concise report detailing what she'd found out from the Sheriff of Kennebunkport, and included what she'd gleaned from the various police reports from Baltimore. Her baseline was there were no reoccurrences of vehicles that she could see, and the crime scene photos didn't yield a repeated image of either man or woman.

Disappointed, Sam went on to Barrett Bishop, former Sheriff of Tomahawk Wisconsin, now retired. His summary of details learned from the Sheriff of Ashland Wisconsin was concise and bullet pointed: no suspicious vehicles, no suspicious persons of interest spotted in the crime reports from Ashland. Rockland was the same, and Donna Hanscum's report highlighted no persons of interest nor suspicious vehicles in Stillwater. While there was no report on the social media angle from Jody Mills and Mark Wright, he had a feeling they would have little to offer as well.

Leaning back in his chair, he supposed the lack of information was to be expected in such small towns, though he would have welcomed the corroboration on Piruz and any information on whether he had a partner.

Dean walked into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Reading through the police reports from Diana, Donna and the others." He eyed his brother's pale face and knew he hadn't gotten enough sleep. "Why are you awake?"

"It's morning," Dean quipped, dropping into a chair at the table. "Anything?" he asked, nodding at the computer.

"No," Sam sighed, and relayed the information he'd gotten from the other points of violence. "Apparently Piruz is very discreet. I was hoping for something, but they're not large cities. With fewer people taking cell shots, it's harder to catch a glimpse of someone who wants to remain anonymous."

"Guess so."

"We meeting in Caleb's room for breakfast?"

Dean nodded. "At ten."

Sam waited a minute, and when it didn't look like Dean was going to continue, he broke the silence. "Tell me about the boxes."

"Oh. Well, Raylan and Kace retrieved one box before midnight, then there was some sort of fight and both of them needed medical attention."

"Are they all right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I'm not sure of everything that happened. We'll have to wait to hear that from Caleb, but when Raylan got back to checking for the boxes, they appeared to be magically welded to the ground. Nothing he did would dislodge it."

"Wow."

"Jody said the same thing. She and Mark found two boxes but couldn't get them up. So we move on to plan B."

Sam smiled. "Weren't we on plan B?"

Dean chuckled. "Maybe we were."

Sam grimaced slightly and closed his eyes. Reaching up he massaged his neck lightly.

Dean rose and headed into the bedroom, returning with a bottle of aspirin. Handing it to Sam, he said, "Headache?"

Sam opened his eyes and focused on the bottle. Smiling, he took it and shook out two pills. "Thanks."

"I think you need more sleep," Dean stated.

"It's not bad," Sam said. "I've just been squinting at the computer a lot over the last couple of days," he glanced up, "_while_ riding in the car."

"You should get some readers."

Sam snorted. "I've got readers. I'm not the one in denial that he's over sixty."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said, rising to get some coffee.

Standing as well, Sam said, "I'm going to take a shower, get ready. It's going to be a long day."

Dean nodded, watching his brother walk from the room. Yeah, they'd been saying that a lot lately.

* * *

Caleb yawned. Being wakened at three by Daniel, then again at four-thirty by Dean had resulted in an extremely choppy night's sleep. Despite not feeling remotely rested, he'd risen before eight to make room arrangements for Daniel. He wasn't sure when the hunter would arrive, but want a hot shower and a warm bed waiting. He knew Daniel, and would bet he'd drive the entire distance without stops, exceeding the speed limit where he could. As it happened, the hotel had a room available two doors down from Joshua. All it needed was a light cleaning, as it hadn't been booked the night before. Following his conversation with the front desk, he'd tried to relax on the sofa. But after twenty minutes he'd given that up as a lost cause and worked some on his computer reading emails and looking through a couple of reports from Allison on the media search through Kennebunkport and Ashland.

It was closing in on nine-thirty and he had just risen to clear the table for breakfast when a ping on his cell told him Daniel had arrived. Immediately he went downstairs. Daniel would need to check in, would need someone to just be there. After getting his room key, they sat in a corner of the breakfast room. Daniel forced down some eggs and coffee, Caleb toyed with a cinnamon roll as they spoke quietly about the hunt, Daniel giving him a rundown on the clubs as they studiously avoided talking about Joel. Now the grieving hunter was in his room getting some much needed sleep.

Caleb wiped the table with a bathroom hand towel and thought over Daniel and all the things he'd _hadn't_ said; he thought about Joel. Despite all his years in the field, losing people was something he could never get used to; no one did. Another deep yawn caught him off guard. He knew if he was tired, there was no doubt Sam and Dean would be as well. If they all didn't get some serious, uninterrupted sleep soon, they were going to become a liability to his hunt.

A knock on the door told him breakfast had arrived. He glanced at his watch: ten o'clock. Precisely on time. Man, he did love Hilton Hotels.

Opening the door, he smiled at the young man standing there. "Morning."

"Good morning, Sir."

Caleb stepped aside, and the young man wheeled the laden cart into the room.

"Would you like me to set the table, Sir?"

"No, thank you," Caleb said. "I'll take care of that when my guests arrive."

"Very good," the young man said, moving toward the door. When Caleb held out a few bills as a tip, the young man shook his head. "We here at The Westin find the joy of serving our customers to be all the tip we need." Giving the hunter a smile, he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door.

It took Caleb a second to realize he was staring at the door with his hand outstretched and his mouth hanging open. "Now that's a first," he muttered. "I gotta make sure I don't get scalped on the final bill."

Onida walked in a second later. "Good morning," she said, leaning in to give him a thorough kiss. "How's Daniel?"

"He'll be okay, eventually. He's getting some sleep." Turning, he walked to the door and opened it before a knock sounded.

Joshua and Adam stood outside, Joshua's hand in the air. Stepping across the threshold, Joshua muttered, "With you, I shouldn't even bother with polite courtesies."

Caleb grinned. "Come on, I usually let you knock." The door opened and Dean and Sam walked in. "See, they didn't even bother with knocking."

"That's a crime?" Dean quipped, going to the cart and picking up a covered plate.

"Only in polite society," Caleb remarked.

"How did you get in without a key?" griped Joshua.

"Cloned key," Dean said absently as he took a seat at the table.

Soon everyone was eating a breakfast of thick spinach and cheese omelets, hash browns, layered biscuits and fruit. Caleb quickly filled them in about Joel, and how Daniel was here in another room getting some sleep.

"Damn," Dean said softly.

"He'll be all right," Caleb said. They'd all lost people and it was never easy.

Conversation shifted onto lighter paths as food was finished off and more coffee was poured. Dean had already drunk two cups and was going for his third when Sam said, "We need to get some rest today."

"We need to figure out a way to burn this witch," Dean said.

"Burn?" Adam echoed.

"Take out," Joshua translated.

Adam nodded and finished the remnants of his omelet.

"We will," Sam stated. "But we haven't had an uninterrupted night's sleep in three days. We'll plan, call out the witch, and get some sleep."

Dean smirked at Caleb before stacking his empty plate on the breakfast cart.

"I could help with revitalizing your cells," Onida volunteered, "but it's not a long term solution to lack of sleep."

"I could go for that," Caleb said with a smile.

"Keep it in your pants," Joshua quipped, then looked up, startled. "Uh, Onida, I apologize."

"It wasn't her pants you were talking about," Caleb complained. "Shouldn't you be apologizing to me?"

"No," Joshua snapped, looking completely out of sorts. It was very out of character for him to make crude comments.

Sam gave Dean a look and said, "See? Lack of sleep makes everyone cranky."

Before anyone else could either protest, put their foot in their mouth or snap at someone else, Dean asked Caleb for a run down on the other teams' box hunts.

Caleb nodded and gave everyone an accounting of what had happened with the searches. "So, we recovered two boxes before they were cemented to the ground. Jody said she found two, but couldn't get either of them up. I heard the same thing from the others. They tried digging around the box, under it, pulling dirt away from it until it was practically floating in mid air, and still the boxes wouldn't move. Raylan also said the cemented box was warmer than the other box he'd found. So something new is happening, and we need to figure out what that is."

"How's Kace?" Sam asked.

"He'll be out of commission for a few weeks," Caleb said. "Dislocated knee cap. A little physical therapy though, and he'll be fine." After a moment, he said, "The only casualty was Joel Neubridge." He relayed what Daniel had said about the dark light swallowing Joel and disappearing. "It sounds like some sort of spell."

Sam looked at his brother. "Didn't you say something about a light when you saw Piruz at the club?"

Dean thought back. "He was in front of me and I was firing at him, then he was suddenly behind me. After you guys came out the back door of the club, he spoke a few words then was gone again. That's when I thought I saw a light of some kind."

Caleb looked at Joshua. "Is there some sort of spell that makes a person disappear?"

"No," Joshua said, shaking his head. "But there are spells of misdirection." Looking to Dean, he continued, "Maybe that's what you saw."

Dean shrugged slightly. "Maybe. I didn't get a good look."

"But a spell of misdirection didn't make Joel disappear," Caleb stated.

"What do you want me to say?" Joshua asked, irritation laced through his voice. "I didn't see what either Dean or Daniel saw. I don't know of any spell that allows a person to disappear, and unless one is an angel or a demon, I don't know of any creature that can disappear from one spot and reappear in another."

Caleb nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry."

Joshua forced his shoulders to relax and he nodded. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"I think Sam's right; we all need some uninterrupted sleep," Caleb said ruefully. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Anyway, Raylan's flying out here with the box he found, and Daniel brought his with him. With the box David and Brian recovered and the one Dean found, we've got four boxes to examine. Maybe one of them will give us a clue as to what's going on."

"We know Piruz said something about a new world," Dean said. Looking to Joshua, he asked, "Is there some sort of renewal spell that could change our society?"

"There are renewal spells, yes," Joshua said. "But they're usually for individual renewal, not one that would work on an entire country." Exchanging a look with Adam, he said, "Unless it was modified in some way, and I still have no idea how one spell could affect the entire United States."

"Piruz is planting boxes in a counter clockwise circle around the United States," Dean said. "I don't know a lot about spells, but does the direction of laying the circle have importance?"

"It very well might," Joshua said. "We can…"

They were interrupted by the door to the room opening and a housekeeper entering with her cart. Caleb stood and said, "Ma'am? There's a Do Not Disturb sign on the door."

Smiling, the woman said, "I need to clean the room, Sir."

"No you don't," Caleb stated. "The sign on the door says you don't."

The woman ignored the fact that there were several people in the room right in the middle of eating breakfast, and said, "We here at the Westin believe in…"

"No, you don't," Caleb said again, gently but firmly taking the housekeeper by her elbow and escorting her from the room, pushing her cart out into the hallway. "Thank you, but no thank you," and he shut the door. Walking over to the room phone, he called the main desk and told them to inform the housekeeper on their floor that she wasn't to clean their rooms. Finally, he came back to the table and sat down.

"How much do you love Hilton properties now," Dean asked.

"There's always those who are new and very enthusiastic about their work," Caleb defended.

Dean gave a soft chuckle. "All right, I say everyone gets another five hours uninterrupted sleep, then we figure out how we're going to take on our witch."

* * *

Caleb touched the screen on the house phone, sending off their late lunch order. Five hours of sleep had done wonders for his energy levels, and he felt more focused. Soon the others would be arriving to tackle their current supernatural problem. While they were used to researching hunts as they worked, this one was unusual for the sheer volume of information they lacked. While they had gotten a little better focus on their quarry, the remainder of the hunt remained ambiguous. It certainly presented a challenge for them all.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Dean and Sam.

"Why didn't you just walk in?" Caleb asked as he stuck a door stopper between the door and the jam so he didn't have to keep getting up.

"Dean was so tired earlier, he left the cloned key," Sam said with a smirk at his brother, who returned the smirk with a significant finger.

"I ordered lunch," Caleb said, placing his laptop on the table and lifting the lid. Quickly he logged onto his email and checked through his emails. Several hunters had sent in reports on what they were experiencing in the field. It seemed much of the weirdness from the last couple of months had toned down. "Well, I suppose that's good," he mumbled.

"What's good?" Sam spread out his research and shifted his computer so he could better see the screen.

Dean merely yawned and dropped onto the couch.

"The weirdness in the field has tapered off," Caleb relayed. "Somehow I thought it would ramp up as the spell neared completion."

"Maybe weirdness goes with Piruz wherever he is," Sam suggested, frowning down at his notes.

"And it'll start up again when he gets to Raleigh," Dean added.

"Yeah, maybe," Caleb mused, frowning. Suddenly he shouted, "Come in!"

Sam jumped and looked at the door as Joshua and Adam walked in, their arms loaded with boxes and duffels.

"Do you have to do that?" Joshua snapped, putting his load down on the couch, forcing Dean to scowl and relocate to a chair at the table. Smirking, the Triad Advisor started opening his boxes.

Caleb grinned. "Yes."

Adam smiled slightly, making sure his back was to Joshua.

"You're acting like a three-year old."

"I didn't have my abilities at three," Caleb shot back.

"I heard from Odette," Adam said, forestalling an argument between the step-brothers.

Joshua stopped unpacking. "What did she say?"

"As far as she's been able to ferret out, there are no covens involved with a newcomer," Adam said. "However, she said she _overheard_," he stressed, "that there was a coven located somewhere in the Midwest that no one has heard from in almost four months. She's trying to see what she can find out."

"That's all?" Joshua said.

Adam nodded. "Oh, and she heard the term _mayhem_."

"She used that term with me as well," Joshua mused.

Caleb looked between Adam and Joshua. "When did Odette get involved in this?"

"I called her yesterday," Joshua said, returning his attention to his boxes. "I asked whether she'd heard of any upheaval in the covens, or someone new associating themselves with covens." Though he hadn't expected the terse crafter to find out something so soon, he was still a bit disappointed it was so little.

"She'll get what she can," Adam said. "You know how good she is at finding things out. People just don't bother to shut up when she's around."

"I know," Joshua said softly.

Dean leaned forward; his elbows on his knees, watching Joshua and Adam unpack. "For the fight?"

Joshua nodded. "I brought as many ingredients as I could. If we need more, we can purchase it here."

"Can I help?"

Joshua appreciated Dean's Guardian ability as an alchemist, and nodded. "Yes. I'll get things organized, then you, Adam and I can make the spell pouches."

There was another knock on the door and someone said, "Hello?"

Caleb rose and pulled open the door further to see a waiter standing there with a cart loaded down with food. Smiling, he tipped the guy and pulled in the cart. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Sir," the waiter said, disappearing down the hallway.

Caleb wheeled the cart over to the table and began putting the food out.

Hearing the door, Onida walked out of the bedroom into the main room and stopped abruptly. "What's up with the boxes?"

All eyes went to the table.

"It's lunch," Caleb said, stating the obvious.

"Not those boxes," Onida said, walking over to the elegant desk sitting in the corner of the main living room.

Sam rose and walked over, looking down at the three ancient boxes. "What do you see?"

Perplexed, Onida stared down. "They're … glowing."

Sam's eyes darted to the boxes. "They look the same to me." Reaching out, he touched one and his eyebrows shot up. "It's warm."

Everyone else crowded around the boxes, taking it in turns to touch the lids.

"What exactly are you seeing?" Dean asked Onida.

Onida frowned, her head tilted slightly. "When I first came into the room, I just noticed a glow around the boxes. Now that I've focused, I can see there's a cluster ring of light around them, and the glow is coming from the cocobolo wood. You know, it's really quite beautiful."

Caleb rose and pulled Onida away from the box. "I think you need to keep your distance."

Onida smiled and cupped Caleb's cheek with her hand. "It's not dangerous; at least, not right now. The wood is nowhere near splintering."

Caleb blinked. "You think the boxes are going to break?"

"Eventually, yes." The silent unease that followed her pronouncement had her eyes jerking up. Quickly, she rushed to offer reassurances. "We're not in any immediate danger; not for a long while. Cocobolo wood can contain a lot of energy. That's why it's used, especially for curses. But eventually, yes, the box will split and whatever is inside will get out."

"Then we need to figure out what it is now," Dean said.

"You're not opening the box," Sam stated.

"I am." Dean stated. "We need to find out what's inside. So when the time comes, Joshua, you're going to make a protection circle around me, one with you on the outside."

"You're not opening the box," Caleb bellowed.

"Then who's going to?" Dean demanded. "You and Sam were both affected by whatever happened to Lassiter, and that wasn't even a direct contact with the box. I betting on this," he tapped his head, "to protect me from whatever is inside."

Joshua came up beside Caleb. "You can't open the box. You're needed." He looked at each of the members of his Triad. "You're all needed."

"Now listen up," Dean said, abandoning all sentiment and speaking as the Guardian. "_When the time comes_," he stressed, "I'm going to open the box." He stared each member of his Triad and his Advisor in the eye. "I'm not saying we do it right now, but each one of you knows there _will_ come a time when we simply need to know."

Just them someone knocked on the door. After a moment of profound silence with no one making a move toward the door, it was Onida who went to open it.

"Hey," Daniel said, coming inside. Stopping short in the face of the terse standoff near the table, he asked, "Uh, should I come back?"

The tension and protest in Caleb whooshed out in a long breath and he turned, saying, "No, Daniel. Come on in. We're just getting down to a late lunch."

Everyone took their seats around the large table, though the uneasiness lingered in the room. Finally Onida closed her eyes and focused on sending soothing energy around the table, and the tension began to dissipate.

Caleb reached under the table and squeezed her hand.

Dean took the plate handed to him but simply set it down on the table. His appetite was long gone. He hated being at odds with his Triad. Their stalwart resistance was out of fear for his safety, but he knew without a doubt that they needed to see inside the box. Deliberately casual talk began as the food was passed around. Suddenly he looked up to see Caleb staring at him.

_I don't want you to open it._

_I know_, Dean thought. _But you know it has to be done_.

Caleb didn't look away. _I'd rather I do it_.

Dean's lips curved slightly, hearing the apology in Caleb's tone. _I'd rather you do it too_.

Caleb gave a soft, audible snort and looked down at his meal, a small smile on his face.

Sam witnessed the silent exchange, though he didn't listen in. He was cross that Dean seemed intent on this dangerous path, and he wasn't ready to make nice yet.

Dean knew Sam, and knew his brother was sulking. He was okay with that. Sam knew he was right. He would come around, eventually.

Joshua finished chewing his bite of turkey sandwich. Swallowing, he asked, "How far along are we on completely translating the box lids?"

Sam didn't want to answer. He wanted to shout at every one of them for endangering his brother; _including_ his brother. But instead, he swallowed his anger and said, "We still don't have the line at the bottom of the box or the corners translated."

"Following lunch, I'd like to examine the boxes," Joshua said. "I've only been working from the rubbing, but I may have some ideas."

"Sounds good," Sam said neutrally.

Suddenly a bright, intense ball of sizzling energy shot through the ninth floor sliding glass doors and hovered near the table.

"Greetings," came a voice from out of the light. "Peto, ut dignum. Quantum est de habemus. Simul quis iste sit simul pro bonis omnibus hominibus." _(I ask that we meet. We have much to discuss. Let us join together for the good of all mankind.) _When the voice finished speaking, the light reformed into numbers: 35.7079º N, 79.8136º W The numbers hovered for several seconds, then dissipated away, leaving terse silence.

Finally, Adam said faintly, "Someone tell me they got those coordinates."

Every other person in the room except Onida answered in unison, "Yes."

"Pretty flashy way to announce a trap," Dean stated, picking back up his sandwich.

Sam stared at his brother. "You understood what he said?"

Dean's eyes flickered up to Sam then went back to his plate. "I think it's obvious he's calling us out."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You understand Latin," he said, sounding accusing.

Dean sighed. Sam acted that way every time he intruded on his academic territory, as if Dean were stupid. He thought they'd gotten past that years ago, but he supposed their baggage would follow them to the grave. "Yes, I understood some of what he said. Dad drilled Latin into both of us until you went off to college." Smiling at the others around the table, he quipped, "Something was bound to stick."

There were a few chuckles.

Caleb eyed his friend, and knew that Dean had understood a lot more than he would ever let on. Like Dean, he'd been subject to John Winchester's Latin tutelage, though due to the high end schools Mac had enrolled him in, he'd had Latin lessons in middle and high school as well. It was the one class he'd gotten A's in without working at all. He also knew how the aftermath of Sam's leaving for Stanford, how John dropping the lessons as though Dean wasn't worth the effort on his own, had affected his friend.

"So, this guy is calling us out?" Daniel asked, his eyes going around the table.

Since neither Dean nor Caleb nor Joshua spoke, Sam said, "He wants us to meet for the good of mankind. Said he wants to talk."

Daniel snorted, picking up his sandwich again. "Like anyone believes that."

A burst of general laughter helped dispel the remaining ebbs of unease and the tension in the room lightened.

Dean gave himself an internal head slap. They were tired and the uncertainty of this hunt was bringing out short tempers and anxiety. It was his job to instill confidence rather to create drama. Looking to Joshua, he said, "Sounds like we have a meet to make. Let's find out where and get some of those spell bags made."

**.**

Headlights off, the two cars cruised up the dirt road near a field in the middle of farmland. Dean coasted to a stop about twenty yards from a long fence, the SUV Joshua rented just behind.

"You know he can see us," Caleb said, leaning forward, scanning the field.

"Hmm." Dean was also scrutinizing the wide expanse of grass. "Tall grass."

Caleb nodded. "Hasn't been used for farming in a long while."

"Do you sense him?" Dean asked.

"No." Caleb frowned. "But he may be masking himself." Opening the car door, he said, "I'm going to scout along the fence."

"Don't go too far," Dean called softly.

Caleb gave his friend a casual salute and trotted off along the fence, crouched low to the ground.

Dean and Sam sat in silence until Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Dean glanced over at his brother, back in his rightful passenger seat and decided not to pretend he didn't know what Sam was talking about. "Don't worry about it."

"I just get into my Scholar mode and forget you know all this stuff too." Sam looked over at Dean, his expressive eyes sorrowful. "Dad taught us Latin for years, made sure we could speak all the incantations and spells, whatever was needed. I shouldn't have been surprised you understood what this guy said, and I shouldn't have undermined you in front of everyone."

"Sam," Dean said earnestly. "You never undermine me. I've forgotten a lot of the Latin I used to…"

"No," Sam interrupted, "you might be rusty, but don't undermine yourself to bolster my ego. I'm sincerely saying I'm sorry."

Dean watched his brother's profile and knew Sam hadn't meant any harm earlier. Academics had always been his safe space, while Dean's had been Sam. "Sammy, I would forgive you anything," he murmured.

Sam grinned. "That's what big brothers are for."

A rap on the passenger window was followed by Caleb climbing back into the car. "You ladies finished with your tête-à-tête? Cause we got a damn powerful sonofabitch to take on."

Dean gave the Knight his full attention. "What's your plan?"

"You, me and Sammy go into the field. Joshua and Adam stay outside the field to the right, Daniel and Onida on the left."

"He's going to know they're there," Sam said.

"Yeah, he will," Caleb said, "but he doesn't know what we're capable of."

Dean stared out the front windshield into the field and mused, "He didn't set a time, but we got here pretty damn fast. Did we beat him to the punch?"

"I vote no," Sam murmured.

Still watching the field, Dean sad, "Damian, reach out. Use the turret in your blocks and see if you can find him."

Caleb looked at Sam, who nodded. The younger man would watch his back.

Caleb closed his eyes and formed his massive blocks into a heavy fortress. Walking to a small turret, he opened his mind and looked out into the surround area. He saw the witch right away, standing on the far side of the field, watching them. Quickly he pulled back and opened his eyes. "He's here, on the edges of the field directly across from us."

"Did he sense you looking?" Dean asked.

"We should be safe and assume yes," Caleb said, "but I think no."

Dean sighed. He would have liked to have made a Triad circle around the field. Next time, he thought, _we_ pick the venue.

"You sure this is wise?" Sam asked quietly, knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

"We need to see what he's got," Caleb stated. "This is as good a way to judge that as any."

"Then let's quit wasting time," Dean said, opening the door and climbing out of the Impala.

Onida and Daniel went left, moving quietly along the fence line and into the trees. Caleb watched them a moment, then turned and conferred briefly with Joshua. When he returned to Sam and Dean, they walked together into the field. Stopping about a third of the way in, they stood a few feet apart from one another, staring toward the opposite side.

Sam stuck his hands in his pockets with the dual purpose of keeping them warm and palming a potion bag.

Caleb looked over to where he knew Piruz was standing, even though he couldn't see him through the darkness. "Come on out and play," he murmured under his breath.

Dean waited a minute, then stepped out a couple feet in front of the others and called out, "I thought you wanted to talk!"

Piruz walked out of the shadows and into the field. "Thanks for come," he said in English.

"You call, we come," muttered Caleb.

Dean didn't say anything, just watched as the tall man walked further into the field. When he got about forty feet from where Dean, Caleb and Sam stood, he stopped.

Head tilted slightly, the man said again, "Piruz zadeh Vahid."

Sam glanced to the side as neither Dean nor Caleb said anything. Finally he nodded. "Qua libuit in occursum." _(Pleased to meet you.)_

Piruz smiled. "Tibi gratias ago pro urbanum salute." _(Thank you for your polite greeting.)_

Sam merely nodded.

Piruz seemed to be thinking about what to say next, and the members of Merlin's Triad just waited. Finally, he said very slowly in English, "This world turbulence, yes?"

Dean nodded. "It is, yes."

"I will make better."

Frowning slightly, Dean took another step forward. "Quam?" _(How?)_

Piruz looked flattered that Dean would attempt to speak Latin. Like Dean, he took a step forward. "Remake peoples, good stay."

"Quam?" Dean repeated.

"Violent people…" Piruz frowned. Looking to Sam, he said, "Violentiam cessandum est. Bonus Dominus, et crescemus. Non potest facere novum mundum. _(The violence must stop, and good will flourish. We can make a new world.)_

Sam frowned. "Et infestior apparebat?" _(And the violent ones?)_

Piruz looked surprised the question was even asked. "Periit."

Sam looked over at Dean, whose face was a stone mask. Caleb's was the same. Yup, they'd understood. Those people would die.

Piruz watched Merlin's Child, then looked at the other two at his back. They had the same taste as Merlin himself; stubborn, intractable. Sighing, he shook his head. "Non te audierit." _(You will not hear.)_

Dean looked back at Sam, and though Sam knew his brother had understood what Piruz said, he still stepped forward and answered. "Venite loqui. Invenies alium curcum." _(Let us talk. Find another way.)_

Piruz straightened his shoulders. Eyeing the three, he said quite clearly in English, "Merlin's Warriors."

And with those words, Dean knew the game was on. "You bet your ass," he said, and dove to his right, near where Sam stood just as a flaming ball of energy exploded right where he'd been standing. Rolling several times, he was on his feet on the last roll, gun in hand and firing.

Caleb ducked and scrambled toward the Guardian, using the grass to hide his movements as he pulled the Dragon's Talon and crept closer. Another streak of red hot power stretched toward Dean, and he instinctively dove forward, the Talon lifted into the air. The bolt of power hit the blade and rebounded toward the surprised witch. Piruz dodged to the side and the magic scorched the grass behind him. When he jerked back around, the blade and the man were gone.

Dean's eyebrows rose and he mouthed, _Nice_.

Caleb rolled his eyes and pointed to Dean, and back toward the cars.

Dean shook his head.

Sighing, Caleb pointed to his own chest, made a circling gesture and jabbed a finger toward Piruz. At Dean's nod, he immediately started crawling to the left. He would attempt to circle around Piruz and hit him from the side or the rear, depending how far he got undetected.

Sam scrambled through the grass, two Mylar spell pouches gripped in his hands. Cautiously he peeked over the top of the long grass and saw Piruz dodge the blot of red energy. Rising up, arm back, he launched one of the potion bags at the witch, then scrambled quickly to the side in order to hide his position.

The pouch hit Piruz' back and split. Arching in pain, Piruz's groan turned into an angry howl. At that instance a ball of kinetic energy flew across the field and he was just able to throw up a shield to prevent a connection. Eyes darting beyond Merlin's three, he saw a female standing at the edge of the field, another flaming ball of power in her hand, ready to throw. Smiling, he reached out with his magic and doused the flames. Then with a wave of his hand, she was tossed back past the tree line into the darkness.

Caleb jerked around in enough time to see Onida go flying backwards. Only his time in the field and his sense of duty kept him from yelling her name. He shimmied to the side, intent on getting behind the witch's position and stabbing him in the back with extreme prejudice.

With Caleb swinging left and Sam on the right, Dean knew that left the frontal assault to him. Stepping forward, he popped the cap on his water bottle, wet both hands and configured a sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

Piruz smiled.

Before Piruz could make a comment on the Musketeerness of his action, Dean darted forward. Zigzagging back and forth, he dodged the spells Piruz hurled in his direction. When he got within eleven feet of the man, he raised his sword - not to penetrate the witch's body - but to hurl it straight through his chest. Suddenly an energy block appeared between Piruz's hands, crackling and white hot, and exploded outward, slamming into Dean and throwing him back across the field like he was a piece of tissue.

"Dean," Daniel hissed. He wouldn't stand here and watch this sonofabitch kill another member of the Brotherhood. Starting forward, he suddenly stopped and looked back at Onida.

"Go," Onida whispered. She was leaning into a tree after having just climbed out of the thorny thicket Piruz had dumped her in. Opening her hand, a dark ball of molten red flame appeared. "I'll be fine."

Daniel grinned. Bending low, he jogged across the dark field to where he'd seen Dean land.

Sam had used Piruz's attention on Dean to move quietly closer until he was a mere eight yards away. Rising, he hurled potion bag after potion bag at the witch. It was only due to Piruz's extreme skill that he was able to extinguish the potions one by one. When the witch returned fire, Sam dodged to the right, using the tall grass to mask his movements.

Bent over at the waist, Caleb used the grass and cover of night to mask his movements. When he saw Sam duck low, he rose and hurled three spell bags at Piruz. One connected with Piruz's shoulder, though the other two were extinguished in midair.

"Damn it," Caleb growled. Dropping below the grass line, the waited a moment then continued advancing around behind the witch.

Daniel rummaged in the tall grass for a couple minutes before a faint rustling told him where Dean had landed. Crawling over, he murmured, "You good?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered, rolling onto his side and pushing himself onto his knees. "I hate getting thrown around." Meeting eyes with Daniel, he nodded and they both moved in opposite directions: Daniel to the left, Dean to the right.

Sam rose, a phantom in the grass, and threw three additional spell pouches at Piruz, then disappeared again. A moment later Caleb rose and fired four staccato rounds at the witch, then dropped down into the grass.

Knowing they were attempting to wound the witch, Daniel rose quickly and fired round after round at the witch until Piruz swiped out a hand and slammed the hunter in the chest, effectively dropping him to the ground.

"Daniel?" Dean hissed, unable to see the other man.

"Still … here," Daniel groaned. Lifting a hand, he patted at his chest lightly. Though he was assured of a massive bruise, there was no bloody skin or broken ribs. Flipping gingerly onto his side, he scuttled a few feet to his right.

Reaching into his pockets for more potions bags, Sam poked his head above the grass and saw that Piruz's attention appeared to be focused in Dean's direction. Rising quickly, he threw first one, then another and another pouch.

Stumbling to the side, Piruz turned slowly in Sam's direction. Smiling, he hissed, "quat al'ard , quat alsama' , taeala 'iily." _(Power of earth, power of sky, come to me.)_ Suddenly power exploded from his hands, his fingers dancing with electrical currents, which he hurled at Sam. The Scholar flew backwards, head over heels to land at the furthest right edge of the field.

Back along the field edge nearest the cars, Joshua turned quickly to Adam and nodded. Adam immediately spun around and ran along the edge of the field just inside the tree line, trying to reach Sam. Standing, Joshua rubbed the potion he'd been mixing between his hands and started murmuring quickly under his breath.

Caleb inched along the western side of the field, trying to position himself behind Piruz, but the witch was a whirl of motion. Of course, he was dodging and retaliating against himself, Sam and Dean, and that meant that his position was in flux. Deciding that being on Piruz's right side would be enough, he rose and threw two spell packets at the witch, then dodged as three fiery orbs flew in his direction.

Dean saw Sam fly to the edge of the field and Caleb dive into the grass, and he took advantage of the witch's distraction to move forward. Bent low in the grass, he ran forward. When he got too close to continued being unnoticed, he rose, shield and sword raised, and charged.

As he ran, he felt a spell wiz past his cheek. Instead of holding the sword, he let that dissolve in favor of firing his weapon around the shield. Though ancient and long lived, he was sure Piruz had a very human body, and he was determined to put a hole in it. He heard another report along with his, and knew Daniel was on his feet and adding his Smith & Wesson to Dean's Colt. He was close enough to see the humorless smile on Piruz's face when another spell whipped past him. Then suddenly three spire-like bolts of energy flew in his direction. They veered abruptly around the edges of his shield, burying buried themselves in his body and throwing him back fifteen yards to land heavily on his back. "Ugh," he moaned. Who knew magic could make trajectory changes in mid-air. Pain radiating through his body, Dean nevertheless forced himself onto his feet.

"muhrij," Piruz murmured. _(Impressive)_

Keeping a wary eye on Piruz, Dean scanned depressions in the grass, searching for where Daniel had gone. Unfortunately, the height of the grass - sufficient to hide their movements - was also proving good camouflage. He had no idea where the other hunter lay. Refocusing on the witch, he started forward again only to have a flaming ball of red hot energy hit Piruz from his left, then another and another. Onida, he thought.

Suddenly, Caleb was standing in the light of Onida's energy orbs, charging Piruz. Piruz hurled magic at Caleb, forcing the Knight to skid to a stop. However, somehow the Dragon's Talon was moving quicker than the eye could see, countering every spell Piruz tossed in his direction. His arm moving faster than Dean thought humanly possible.

Dean continued firing his weapon, but the bullets were not making contact. "Damn it," Dean muttered, fishing in his pockets for the spell pouches.

Caleb's single focus was Piruz, his attention undivided as he took one step forward followed by another and another. Piruz increased the speed of the spells hurling at Caleb and, defying the laws of biology and physics, Caleb's arm moved faster.

Piruz frowned. What was this magic?

Caleb took another step, then unleashed his psychic ability, gripping Piruz's throat with his mind.

Stumbling back, Piruz's eyes widened in pain and he choked, desperate to get air in his lungs. Closing his eyes, he called on the power of heaven, earth and hell. Just before Caleb got to him, and just before his mind lost its grip on consciousness, Piruz gasped out, "hayhat hayihat!" _(Begone with you!) _Power as strong as an earthquake shot out from Piruz' body and slammed into Caleb. The Knight flew back so far, he disappeared into the tree line beyond the field.

Dean lifted his pouches and hurled them at Piruz just as he heard Joshua shout, "Down!" Dean hit the dirt as a massive wave of power rippled across the field, lifting Piruz completely off his feet and knocking him back more than fifty yards.

Silence, complete and deafening in its intensity, blanketed the field.

Daniel came up alongside Dean and together, they walk slowly forward looking for Piruz. Daniel had his gun out and was holding two spell pouches in his left hand.

Dean couldn't move his left arm, but his Colt was still clenched in his right hand. After a moment's hesitation, he stuffed the gun into his waistband. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small bottle of water and said, "Daniel, you see nothing."

Daniel never stopped his scrutiny of the field as he murmured, "Como Schultz, no veo nada." _(Like Schultz, I see nothing.)_

Dean's mouth twitched in grim amusement. "Good man," he murmured as a large shield with metal spikes appeared in his hand. If Piruz could throw spikes, so could he.

Joshua watched the far end of the field, and knew it wasn't over. Grabbing up another potion, he closed his eyes and murmured rapidly under his breath, words tumbling over words in his rush to prepare a new spell.

Daniel frowned as he studied the dark field, straining to catch even a glimpse of their foe. "I don't see anything," he whispered.

"Doesn't mean he isn't there," Dean murmured.

Suddenly they saw Piruz standing at the edge of the field, his face was terrible to behold. Electricity snapped around his body, his hands outstretched with light and power dripping like sunlit gold from the tips. "altabieat tatie 'amria. alsama' tajni li'iiradati. alfudaa!" _(Nature obeys my command, heaven yields to my will. Chaos!)_ Piruz hurled the power across the field, where it slammed into Daniel and Dean, sending them airborne.

Joshua stepped out to the edge of the field, held up his hands and said with such authority, his voice echoed in the darkened field, "Prohibere!"

Instantly the massive wave of energy slammed to a halt midfield, folded in on itself and snapped out of existence.

Piruz clenched his fists in anger. So, Merlin's Warriors had more in their arsenal than he'd anticipated. Turning, he stalked out the backend of the field and disappeared into the trees.

Joshua sank down onto the grass, his heart racing. Adam ran over, his eyes wide. "Joshua, are you all right?" He'd never seen anything like what his friend had just done.

Joshua gave his friend a tired smile and said in a breathless voice, "Yes, I'm fine. I just need some rest, as do we all." Looking out into the field, he said, "Find Dean, please."

Adam nodded and ran out into the field, looking around for the two men who'd been there when the magician had launched his power. It took six minutes of searching before he found Daniel lying on his side. Bending down, he touched the man's neck and was gratified to feel the pulse. "Daniel," he murmured, tapping the man's cheek. "Daniel."

"Ugh," Daniel moaned, rolling slowly onto his side and trying to open his eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"Define … alright," Daniel growled, pushing himself into a sitting position and holding his head.

"Come on," Adam said, "We need to find Dean."

"Yeah," Daniel groaned. Crawling to his knees, he took Adam's offered arm and used the assist to get to his feet. Staring around, he said, "We were together, so he should be nearby."

Together they searched the grass, knocking tall blades aside until Adam saw a boot. "He's here!"

Daniel knelt beside Dean while Adam turned him over. There was blood soaking Dean's shirt in three places. Adam quickly checked for a pulse and sagged in relief. "He's alive." He tried patting Dean's cheek, but the older man didn't move. Finally he said, "We'll have to carry him."

"I'll do it," Daniel said. Together he and Adam maneuvered Dean up and over Daniel's shoulder.

"Are you sure you're well enough?"

"I'll be okay. Where's Caleb?"

"I don't know." Adam looked around. "Take Dean back to Joshua. I'll go get Sam and then we can search for Caleb."

Daniel nodded and started slowly back toward the cars.

Adam jogged across the field to a large yellow poplar by which he'd laid Sam. Getting down on his knees, he fitted his shoulder to Sam's midsection and lifted, grunting as he slowly got to his feet. "O-kay," he mumbled. At a time like this he was grateful for his height; otherwise carrying Sam would have been impossible. Turning, he used the poplar tree to stabilize himself with the load and started walking around the field.

"Dean," Joshua cried as Daniel walked, panting, toward the cars. Slowly the hunter lowered the Guardian to the ground. Joshua checked Dean's pulse, then pulled away the shredded flannel and tee to reveal a deep, red gash in his side.

Daniel's eyes widened as Joshua pushed up the t-shirt to expose a hole in Dean's shoulder, and another gouge just above his pectoral muscle. "How was he walking around with those wounds?"

Joshua smiled. "He's the Guardian."

Daniel stared at Joshua a moment, then lowered his head, chuckling. "Ain't he just." Pushing himself up, he said, "I'm off to see if I can find Caleb."

**.**

Onida was nearly frantic searching the woods for Caleb. She didn't feel his energy or his power, and her heart was in her throat, which was raw from calling his name. Forcing herself to stop, she stood near a large tree and tried to calm her heart. She needed to quit acting like a hysterical girl and start acting like the Guardian of the Yakama People. Closing her eyes, she pooled energy into her center until it was a solid warmth, then thought about Caleb. Releasing energy into an ever-widening circle, she sought the unique energy that was Caleb. It took several minutes of painstaking search before she finally hit on his essence. Marking the spot, she opened her eyes and sighted on the energy marker and took off jogging in that direction.

She literally stumbled over his legs. Dropping to the ground, she touched the pulse at his neck. It was slow and erratic. "Damn it," she muttered. She glanced over her shoulder searching for the field and anyone that could help, but they were too deep in the trees. Turning back, she hoped she had enough energy left to heal him, because she wouldn't be able to carry him out of the forest.

Holding her hands out over Caleb's body, she again pooled energy into her core and pulled up the blue, healing light. Slowly it bled out through her hands and into Caleb's body, knitting together broken bones and stressed ligaments. Slowly she moved upward, knitting together the concussion to his head. Suddenly, she frowned. The cells in his brain were spiraling sluggishly like they had when he'd been exposed to David Lassiter. But why would they be doing that now? Instead of pondering the conundrum, she used the last bit of her strength to stabilize the cells, then she dropped her hands, exhausted.

"I've never witnessed you healing anyone before," Daniel said, coming up behind her. "It was pretty amazing."

Onida have him a tired smiled. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. It was the light from your hands that allowed me to find you both out here."

Onida frowned. She thought only Dean and JT could see the light of her energy. Maybe all the magic in the air had made it possible.

Daniel looked over his shoulder. "We're almost half a mile from where we parked the cars."

Onida touched Caleb's throat again, and his pulse was stable. She didn't understand why he hadn't woken yet. Sitting back on her heels, she said, "Where's the road from here?"

Daniel pointed to the south. "About two hundred yards that way."

"That's closer than taking him back to where the cars are parked." Looking up at the hunter, she said, "Can you bring the car here? I'll try and wake up Caleb and we'll meet you at the road."

Daniel nodded. "Sure. Hang tight."

It wasn't until Daniel had left that Onida realized she hadn't asked about anyone else. She hoped they were alright.

**.**

Joshua and Adam loaded Dean into the backseat of the Impala. Sam, who had regained consciousness a short time before, was sitting in the front.

"Is he all right?" Sam asked, trying to hold his head still, yet also attempting to peer over the seat in order to see his brother.

"He's stable," Joshua said.

Sam's eyes narrowed on Joshua. "Are you all right?"

"I think we'll all benefit from some of my restorative tea, a bit of Onida's healing and a solid ten hours sleep." Looking over to Adam, who was kneeling on the driver's seat checking Dean's pulse, he asked, "Anyone else yet?"

Adam shook his head. "I'm getting ready to search the other side of the meadow…" Footsteps crunching on the gravel of the road had him turning around.

"Caleb is down," Daniel said. "We can't get him to the cars, so we'll need to drive around the side. If Onida can't get him to the edge of the woods, we'll have to go in and get them."

"I'll drive the SUV," Adam said. "Joshua, you've got the Impala."

"Like … hell."

Sam jerked and then moaned as his head throbbed unpleasantly. Turning slowly, he saw his brother still lying on the back seat, his eyes open to very thin slits. "Dean?"

Dean shifted slightly then froze, a hand to his shoulder. "Oouuch," he groaned.

"Sam's got a concussion and you're in no shape to drive," Joshua said before adding, "Welcome back."

"You hate Baby," Dean muttered petulantly, "so you can't drive her."

Joshua rolled his eyes. He himself was feeling tired and shaky after expelling so much energy, they didn't know where Caleb was and he didn't have the patience to deal with a pouting Guardian. Turning around, he declared, "I'm driving this car, and you're going to lay back there and take it."

Dean ground his teeth, fire in his eyes. He opened his mouth to argue until he heard a tired voice say his name. Looking over at Sam's pale, pinched face, he sighed. "Fine."

"Good," Joshua stated, trying very hard to imbue his voice with total neutrality; neither triumphant nor reluctant.

Adam and Daniel were already waiting in the idling SUV. Joshua got behind the wheel of the Impala. It was the first time he'd ever driven Dean's car, and the power of the engine roaring to life took him by surprise. Smiling, he pushed the gas pedal and the car bounded forward.

Sam smiled. "Careful. There's a lot of power in that engine."

Joshua nodded. Slowly he turned the car around, then steered them back on the road circling the meadow. Within a few minutes Daniel flashed his lights and Joshua slowed down.

They climbed out their cars and Daniel hovered along the edge of the woods. "I don't see them," he told Adam.

Adam started for the woods, saying, "We need to go in and …"

"We're … here," Onida panted, moving around a tree with Caleb stumbling along beside her.

Sam and Joshua watched anxiously from the Impala as Daniel and Adam darted forward, taking Caleb from the exhausted Onida and half carrying, half dragging him to the SUV where they situated him in the back seat.

Joshua climbed from the driver's seat of the Impala and hurried over to the SUV. Leaning in, he asked, "How is he?"

"Don't know," Adam said. Turing to Onida, he asked, "Do we need to take him to the hospital?"

"No," Onida said, leaning against the vehicle. "Sleep, he needs sleep."

"Then let's get everyone back to the hotel," Joshua said, heading back to the Impala.

Adam called in his friend's wake, "How are we going to get them upstairs?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Joshua said. Starting the Impala again, he revved the engine. "Wow," he murmured. So much visceral power emanating from the engine; maybe Dean's love for the vintage muscle car wasn't so crazy after all. Turning around, he saw that Dean's eyes were closed.

"I think he's fallen asleep," Sam said.

"Most likely blood loss," Joshua said, his eyes on the still man in the back seat. "We'll give everyone a thorough check when we get back to the hotel."

Sam nodded, turning gingerly back around, a hand on his head. "Let's go, and be careful once you hit paved road. This car has a lot of kick."

Joshua put his foot down on the pedal and revved the engine. Smiling, he thought that maybe he liked driving Dean's car. Putting the car in drive, he roared down the rural road heading for Charlotte.

Sam glanced back at his sleeping brother and murmured, "I think we've created a monster."

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you to all who've taken the time to write a review. It is very much appreciated!_


	14. Chapter 14

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 14

.

Joshua found getting everyone up to their rooms was easier than he'd expected. Since it was just before midnight, the hotel wasn't as crowded as during peak hours.

It had taken them an hour to drive back from the battle site, and after his brief minute or two awake, Dean had remained asleep. Sam was extremely concerned. It took a great deal of effort to keep a handle on his feelings as the concussion played havoc with his emotions. When they pulled into the parking lot, Joshua took extreme care to park the Impala straight and in a place where it wouldn't be in danger from less careful drivers. Climbing out, he saw Daniel run past him into the hotel, and return a few minutes later with a wheelchair.

Glancing up at Joshua, Daniel said, "I told them one of our guys got a leg injury riding motorcycles."

"Good thinking." Joshua opened the rear door to the Impala, and together with Daniel, they pulled Dean from the car.

"Why isn't he awake?" Daniel asked quietly, his eyes on Sam, who was making his way gingerly around the car.

"I don't know. It could be the magic, but I believe blood loss."

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Sam asked, leaning down and rubbing a hand over his brother's head.

Joshua sighed. The truth was, he didn't know. They hadn't gotten a good enough look at the wounds yet, he hadn't been able to examine anyone.

"Let's get up to the rooms," Caleb murmured, his arm around Adam's shoulders. "We'll assess and go from there."

Onida went from one to the other, brushing as much dirt and debris from their clothing as possible before the group headed for the side door. They used the rear first floor elevators to get to the ninth floor, receiving only a few odd looks along the way. When the doors opened on their floor, Raylan was standing outside ready to help.

Caleb steered the group to his and Onida's suite for assessment and treatment. Once inside, he leaned against the door, head pounding and his body aching. His stomach was churning uncomfortably as he swallowed thickly.

"Caleb?"

Opening his eyes, Caleb observed Onida and Sam standing in front of him. Smiling, he said, "I'm fine … for being thrown several yards across a field and into a thicket of trees."

Sam gave a short laugh.

"You need to get some rest," Caleb remarked to Onida, worriedly. "You're white as a ghost."

At that moment Adam stepped up and handed Onida a leftover turkey sandwich he'd retrieved from the room's mini-refrigerator. "Joshua said you should eat this and sleep."

"Thank you," Onida said, taking the sandwich. Putting a hand on Caleb's cheek, she walked slowly into hers and Caleb's bedroom and closed the door.

Caleb nodded to Adam, who gave him a small smile and returned to where Joshua was unpacking some of their medical gear. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped over to the medical equipment and picked up a penlight. Motioning to Sam, he said, "Come on, let me check you out." Using the light, he expertly checked the younger man's eyes. "You've definitely got a concussion. Any other wounds?"

Sam shook his head, his eyes going back to Dean, who was lying on the couch. "Cuts, scrapes and bruises, but about that's it."

Caleb put a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Go get a shower, get changed and come on back. The couch pulls out into a bed and I'm bringing in a couple of rollaways."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm going to get cleaned up and changed too," said Daniel, following Sam to the door.

"You get cleared by Joshua yet?" Caleb asked. He stepped over and shone the penlight into Daniel's eyes.

Daniel smiled. "Yeah, other than some cuts and scrapes, which I'll have treated after a shower, I'm fine."

Caleb nodded. There'd been no signs of concussion. "All right, see you soon." He closed the hotel room door and turned to watch Joshua and Raylan clean Dean's wounds. "How's he doing?"

"His breathing and respirations are fine," Joshua said without looking up. "Blood loss is the greatest concern right now."

Caleb eyed the gaping puncture holes in Dean's side, shoulder and chest. "Those from magic?"

Joshua nodded. "When Onida gets some rest, I'll ask her to heal them. Right now, we're making sure the wounds are clean and that he's stable."

"No concussion?"

"His eyes are tracking fine, and other than a few minor lumps on his head – which we all know are nothing to the Winchester cranium of steel," Joshua said with a smile at the old joke, "he shows no sign of concussion."

Raylan stood and said, "Come on, I'm checking you over."

"I'm fine," Caleb said, his eyes still on Dean.

"I wasn't askin'," Raylan stated, going to the table and pulling out a chair.

Caleb glanced over and huffed softly. "Fine."

Raylan checked Caleb's eyes and his pulse, listened to his breathing and checked his respirations and reflexes. Finally stepping back, he said, "You need to lie down. Daniel said Onida healed you, but you've got rales in your left lung, your breathing is stilted and your eyes aren't tracking. Take a shower and get some sleep. I'll be waking you in an hour."

Caleb blinked up at the hunter's orders. It wasn't often he was on the receiving end of medical strong-arming. Usually he was the strong arm man. Giving Raylan a wry look, he conceded. "Fine. I'll wait till Sam gets back and the rollaways are delivered. And don't worry about waking me every couple of hours. Onida can handle that."

"Fair enough," Raylan said, moving over to help out Joshua once more.

Within a half hour, two rollaways had been brought up to Caleb's room, and Raylan, Daniel and Adam had gotten Dean moved so Joshua could pull out the sofa sleeper. Sam helped make the bed and they tucked Dean inside.

Raylan ushered Daniel, Joshua and Adam out of the room to get some sleep, and sent Caleb to his bedroom. When he turned to Sam, Sam smiled and said, "I'll sleep here," he pointed toward Dean.

Raylan nodded. "I'll wake you in an hour." After turning out the lights, he crawled onto the rollaway bed, set his watch timer and fell instantly to sleep.

**.**

Dean opened his eyes and found himself standing in his living room at the farm. Frowning, he looked around. The place was eerily quiet, deserted. "Juliet?" He felt disoriented, confused. Not feelings he usually experienced when he was here at the farm. Since his dream encounter with Jim Murphy a year ago, the first one he'd had since hell, the doorway to meeting his old mentor at the kitchen table had been opened again. While the dream visits didn't happen often enough to suit him, he cherished the occasional conversation at the table, sometimes with Gideon alongside them, drinking sweet tea.

But this wasn't like those times. For one, he'd never appeared in the living room before. It was always the kitchen. So what was happening? Turning, he walked down the hallway to view the guest bedroom, then turned back and entered the kitchen. "Juliet!" Taking the stairs two at a time, he checked his and Juliet's bedroom, then the boys' old rooms before jogging back downstairs. The creaking of an old, wooden rocker had him moving slowly back to the living room.

Pastor Jim sat in his old rocker, a rocker that had broken years before, a Bible open on his lap, reading.

"Jim?" Dean said, moving in closer.

Pastor Jim didn't give any indication he'd heard Dean or his approach.

Dean dropped onto the couch across from his old friend and watched him read for a couple of seconds, before he said again, "Pastor Jim…"

"Jim?"

Shocked at the sound of a voice he'd never heard in his dreams with Jim Murphy, Dean's gaze jerked in the direction of the kitchen where he saw Ms. Emma walk out, a tall glass of sweet tea in her hand.

"Here you go," Ms. Emma said, smiling. "I know you get thirsty when you're preparing to meet with Pastor O'Shaughnessy."

Pastor Solomon O'Shaughnessy? What was going on?! Suddenly Dean realized that Jim's hair was dark and his face unlined.

Jim chuckled. "He does like to spar, doesn't he?"

"He does that just to drive you crazy," Emma said with a smile.

Dean felt his heart racing and he jumped to his feet. What was happening? Breathe coming in gasps, he rushed to the front door and stared out at the newly built closed-in porch and the green lawn beyond. No, he didn't have a green lawn. Pastor Jim had never had a green lawn, not as long as he'd been coming to the farm. He was asleep, he knew that. But this wasn't like meeting up with Pastor Jim, this was something else. Turning, he raced down the hall and turned into the library. Pulling a few books from the sparsely populated shelf, he saw no brass latch leading into the Tomb. No, at this point in Jim's life there wouldn't have been a Tomb, would there?

Anxiously he ran a hand over his face. Slowly he returned to the living room, passing Ms. Emma working at the counter in the kitchen. He stepped back into the living room where Pastor Jim still rocked in his chair. Gingerly he lowered himself back onto the couch, his eyes fastened on the other man. "Jim?" There was no answer. Clenching his fists slightly, he tried again, "Pastor Jim? I don't know if you can hear me. You're not the Guardian of the Brotherhood yet, don't even know what that is, I guess. But I think you were always the Guardian in your heart, weren't you?" The man across from him kept rocking, his gaze focused on his Bible. "I don't know what's happening … but whenever I didn't know what was going on, I could always talk to you. So that's what I'm going to do. Okay?" Again, there was no response from the man in the rocker. Dean nodded to himself, anxiety causing his heart to skitter slightly. "Okay, here goes. We're up against a powerful witch. He's centuries old. I don't know how he got to be so old, but, maybe that's a mystery for you, right?" After watching Pastor Jim a moment, he continued, "Anyway, he plans on remaking the world by using a spell. I guess he wants to take down the United States first, then move on to other countries. We can't get close enough to take him on physically, and bullets don't work. Joshua's spell potions didn't do a lot of damage either. Guess we'll need to rework those. Truth is, we don't know how to take him out. We met up with him face to face once already, and got our butts kicked. And there are these boxes ringing the country… They're giving off some kind of energy we've never seen before." There was no acknowledgement from Pastor Jim that he was there, no response whatsoever. "Jim," Dean uttered, his voice raw. "Can you help me? Jim!"

Still, the man in the rocker kept reading.

Dean felt the tears in his eyes and fought to keep them from falling. Nodding several times, he finally stood. "Yeah, okay. I know you would help if you could. I'm in the wrong time. Maybe next time I'll get it right, huh?" Turning, Dean headed for the kitchen where he would go out the backdoor like he always had before.

"Strength. Through. Generations."

Dean froze. Turning, he rushed back into the living room to find Pastor Jim standing there, gray hair sticking up all over the place, his old Bible held in his hand. "Jim!"

Jim didn't smile. Instead, he appeared to be struggling to speak. "Strength … through … generations."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked desperately.

"No, Merlin's Child," came a voice ringing through the dream. "Vos mos on adepto auxilium de praeteritis." _(You will not get help from the past.)_

"You can't get inside my mind," Dean shouted into the air.

"In dream, I am, Child." There was an echoing laugh. "In planum somnium aperta sunt omnia. (_The dream plane is open to all.)_

Straightening his shoulders and taking a firm step forward, Dean stated, "This place is mine. Get out."

"Non ero porto in." _(I will not let you carry on.)_

"You can't stop me."

"Can't I?" Piruz's echoing voice taunted. "_You_ not stop _me_."

"Yes," Pastor Jim said, stepping up and putting his hand on Dean's arm. "We can." Taking Dean's arm, a wave of intense blue light shot out from their bodies, and Dean heard the echoing scream of Piruz fading away.

"Jim…" Dean began, only to find himself waking up in a bed.

"Dean?"

Confused, Dean looked around, expecting to see his home in New Haven. Instead, this looked like a hotel room.

"Dean…"

Turning, Dean saw Sam's concerned face right next to his. "Where…"

"We're in Charlotte North Carolina, at the Westin," Sam said. "You got hurt fighting Piruz last night."

That's when Dean noticed the pre-dawn sun lighting the room, and he also noticed the pain all across his body. Groaning, he lay back down, grimacing.

"I'll go get…"

"No," Dean whispered, grasping Sam's forearm to keep his brother by his side. The dream or visitation or whatever it was had been so odd, he needed Sam to anchor him right now. "Stay here. What happened?"

Sam plumped up his pillows and lay back down facing Dean and gave an overview of the night, finishing with how, after Piruz had tossed Dean across the field, Joshua had let loose a magical spell that had somehow shutdown Piruz's magic. "That's when he left."

Dean nodded. "Damn, it's good to have Josh on our side." After a long moment, he said, "Why did Piruz leave? We were all down. Is Josh strong enough to beat him?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Joshua's magic didn't take him out, though it did toss him across the field. Maybe he was surprised. I don't think Joshua used a spell to kill him; just to mitigate what he'd already set in motion."

"Did he use Triad magic?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. "He knows a lot about Triad magic, magic we haven't had to use much since the Apocalypse and the angels."

"It was powerful just the same," Dean said with a smile. "Knocked our very smug ancient witch on his ass."

Sam chuckled. "Yup, he did. I think Joshua has more up his sleeve."

Looking over at Sam, Dean said, "You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Bruised; some cuts, scrapes and a concussion, which Raylan has been checking every hour. But I'm okay."

"Good." Dean winced slightly as he shifted.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"He had these spikes that veered in midair; went around my Guardian shield."

Sam started to get up, saying, "I'm going to get Onida to heal those."

"No, not yet." Dean wasn't ready for Sam to leave. He was still unsettled about the dream. "It's too early. She can do her thing later."

A small buzz sounded, and Raylan pushed himself up off the rollaway and walked over to Sam, penlight in hand. Smiling, he said, "You're up." Then his eyes went over to Dean, and he repeated, "You're up!"

Dean huffed out a soft laugh.

Raylan leaned over to check Sam's eyes responses. Finally, he said, "That was the last check. You're fine, though you'll have to go easy for a couple days." Turning to Dean, he said, "And now, you."

"I don't have a concussion," Dean protested, leaning away from the light.

"You were out for several hours. Sure, it was probably blood loss, but I'm checking anyway."

Dean sighed and submitted to the examination.

After a minute, Raylan stood back up. "Looks good. How about we all get some uninterrupted sleep, huh?" Smiling, he walked back to his rollaway, dropped down and was asleep in the next second.

"Wow," Dean murmured. "And I thought I fell asleep fast."

Sam snickered softly. Shifting back on his side, he pulled the covers up over his shoulders. After a moment, he asked softly, "Did you have a dream?"

Dean hesitated only a moment before he nodded. "But it wasn't like a usual dream with Pastor Jim," he murmured, his eyes going to Raylan to make sure the man was down for the count. Quietly he told Sam all about the dream and what Jim had said.

"Strength through generations?" Sam repeated. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Last year when Jim got through to me, there were the Guardians of all the generations there, but I don't think that was usual."

"Just one more riddle in a hunt full of them," Sam said, then he yawned.

"Yeah," Dean murmured, shifting slightly. "Let's get some sleep. Then maybe Onida can work her magic."

Lips curved slightly, Sam said, "Night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy," Dean murmured, and closed his eyes.

* * *

JT stood on the deck of his North Carolina home, the house where Caleb had lived as a child until his parents had been murdered. Even with the tragic history, JT loved the place. Caleb had given it to him after he'd left the Red Sox and started earning a living as a photographer. The beach front home was meant to be lived in by an artist, his uncle had said. Breathing in the salty sea air, he didn't know if he bought that reason for the gift, but he wasn't arguing. Though the sun had long since set, the moonlight shown magically on the water. It was beautiful.

He hadn't heard from his father since the first day he, his Uncle Sam and Uncle Caleb had left home to track the witch. He wanted to call, wanted to know what was going on. He felt something happening, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. There was just a subtle shift in vibration, in the current of society. He didn't know if his sensing certain things was a Guardian gift, like his father thought, or just an innate ability. But he felt anxious about what his father and uncles were doing.

With a sigh, he turned and walked back into the house. Maybe he should call Max and James. If he was feeling anxious, he knew Max and James would be feeling the same. However, one look at the clock on the kitchen wall had him reconsidering. The call could wait for the morning.

Sitting back down at his desk, he sighed and resumed work on his photo spread. It was due in three days, and quite frankly, for perhaps the first time he wanted it done and to the publisher. He had a feeling the next few days were going to get very busy.

* * *

It was after midnight, and Max was cooking. The kitchens at Sawyers had closed an hour ago, and he was alone. He shimmied his top-of-the-line skillet over the burner, browning and tossing some butternut squash and kale before adding it along with goat cheese to his phyllo pie. He'd never made a skillet pie, but had seen the recipe and wanted to try it out.

It had been three days, and he hadn't heard anything from his father or Caleb. He didn't like being out of the action on a hunt he'd helped to research. Of course, he hadn't done a lot of the research, but he was invested anyway. Arranging the phyllo over the squash, kale and goat cheese, he adjusted the heat and stepped back, keeping an eye on the browning dough.

Glancing at the clock again, he wanted to call Caleb. He knew Caleb, Sam and Dean had driven to Mississippi to track the witch. After that he surmised they would head east, maybe to North Carolina or Virginia. Caleb had left him in charge of the field, and he'd been working with several other hunters on their jobs. It was definitely a big job, and he was getting an unprecedented view into what Caleb did. No wonder his uncle had sold Tri Corp to work full time for the Brotherhood. But he wasn't at the stage where he wanted to sell Sawyers. He had an excellent backup chef and two very skilled sous chefs which allowed him a large degree of latitude for hunting. Maybe when Caleb retired…

Max turned his mind away from that thought. He didn't want Caleb to retire.

Sighing, he turned and poured himself a small glass of red wine. Sipping it, he continued to watch the pie brown, just letting him mind drift when there was a banging at his restaurant's back door. Frowning, he shoved the pie off the burner and pulled his gun. Walking to the door, he shouted, "Who is it!?"

"James!"

Shaking his head, he opened the door to allow his roommate into the kitchens. "Why didn't you call? I would have left the door open."

"I didn't know if I'd complete my report for the Ames Security Office in time to come over."

"It's after midnight," Max pointed out.

James grinned. "Got any leftovers?"

Max jerked his head toward the fridge. "There's some black tie scallops and herb-roasted chicken."

James went over to the industrial fridge and dug around, coming back with the chicken and an individual mousse cake.

Max smiled and rolled his eyes. Of course James would find the cake.

Pulling a stool up to the counter, James asked, "You heard anything from dad?"

"No," Max said, turning down the heat on the phyllo pie as the browned edges started curling inward.

James watched him. "You going to call?"

"No," Max sighed, "not yet."

"They've been gone three days."

"Yeah." Turning to lean against the prep table, Max said, "I want to go and help, but don't know exactly where they're at right now. Plus, Uncle Caleb put me in charge of the other hunts across the country. I can't just run off when I've got that responsibility."

James wanted to argue, but he knew better. Max took his responsibilities as the soon-to-be Knight of the Brotherhood very seriously. He understood. He took his upcoming role seriously too. But he didn't have as many active responsibilities to others as Max. "Yeah, I know."

Max watched James for a few minutes as the younger man ate, then he asked, "You talk with JT?"

James shook his head. "He's working on his photo spread. I didn't want to disturb him."

Max smiled. "You don't think he's preoccupied with this too?"

Chuckling, James said, "Yeah, he probably is. Want to give him a call?"

Max shook his head. Walking forward, he took the skillet pie off the burner and set it on a cooling rack. "I'll call in the morning, see if he's heard from Uncle Dean."

James nodded, his eyes on the skillet. "What's that?"

"I saw a recipe for a skillet pie, and thought I'd give it a try. You want some?"

"Definitely. It's not often I get to try something before it goes on the menu."

"You always try things before they hit the menu," Max argued, pulling down two plates from a nearby cabinet and putting them beside the pie.

"Do not," James denied.

"Do to. I cook a lot at home."

"That doesn't count because it's not in your restaurant," James countered with a grin.

Max snorted as he sliced into the pie and lifted a hot, steaming piece. "Well then, here's an official, it-was-cooked-in-my-restaurant piece of skillet pie."

James cut a piece of the pie and blew on it for a second before he took the bite. "Um, this is really good."

Max was chewing, savoring the squash and the goat cheese along with the crunchy pastry. "I like it. Needs a bit more spice."

"You'll make it work," James said, taking another bite.

"And we'll call if we don't hear anything by Thursday," Max stated.

James nodded his heart lightening.

* * *

Joshua opened his eyes. Bright morning sun was flowing in through the window of his bedroom. A glance at the clock told him it was after nine in the morning. He couldn't remember what time he'd gone to bed, but from the way he felt, he hadn't gotten enough rest.

Groaning, he rolled over and picked up his phone. Hitting speed dial one, he smiled when Carolyn answered right away.

"How are you?"

Smiling, Joshua answered, "Fine, good."

"You sound tired," Carolyn observed with the ears of someone that had woken up at his side for over thirty years.

"I am, a bit. But I'll get more sleep. How's Nicholas?"

"Missing you. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know. This hunt isn't an easy one, but I hope soon."

Carolyn gave an inaudible sigh. She didn't bring up her hope that Joshua would retire soon. She'd wanted him to retire from hunting eight years ago at sixty-five. But she was from a long hunting lineage herself, and she knew the drill. She would have to be patient. "Then get it done, Mister, and get home."

Joshua smiled. That was one of the things he loved most about his wife. She was supportive even when she didn't agree with his choices.

"How about I get Nicholas on the line…?"

"That would be great," Joshua said. A moment later he could hear breathing and said, "Hello Nicholas! How are you?"

It was a moment, before Nicholas said, "Back?"

"Very soon; I'll be back very soon. How are the puppies?"

"Fun. Ted … wet the floor."

Joshua laughed, glad to hear a rare complete sentence, and loving that Nicholas was having fun with the puppies. "Did he? Well, he's a baby. He'll get better." After a second, he said, "I have to go, but I'll be back very soon. I love you, Nicholas."

"Back," Nicholas breathed into the phone. After a moment, he said, "Love daddy."

Joshua's eyes teared up and he said, "Love you too, baby."

A moment later Carolyn was on the line, and Joshua could hear the tears in her voice when she said, "Come home fast. We love you."

"I love you too," Joshua said, hanging up. Smiling, he lay in bed another few minutes before pushing himself up and heading into the shower.

He was just getting dressed when there was a knock on his door. Going into the main room, he opened it to find Adam standing there. "Come in. Are the others up?"

"I haven't checked," Adam said. "I just woke up myself an hour ago. I feel like I could sleep for another day. I can imagine how you're feeling."

Joshua eyed his friend, and went for the coffee. "Want some?"

"I want to know what happened last night," Adam said in his direct fashion. "First of all, are you all right?"

Joshua smiled and placed two cups of coffee on the table. "I'm tired, but fine."

"What happened? How did you do that kind of magic? I don't know of anyone who could do what you did."

Joshua thought about that for a moment. He trusted Adam with his life, had trusted Adam with his life for decades. But this was brotherhood business, and he needed to get Dean's approval before he revealed anything. Instead of answering outright, he said, "What happened last night was unusual…"

"That witch was unusual," Adam stated.

Nodding, Joshua realized he was walking a line here. There were many things in the Brotherhood that he hadn't shared with Nadine, and therefore Adam didn't know. He felt Dean trusted Adam, or he wouldn't have allowed him to accompany Joshua on this hunt. But he still needed to take his cues from Dean on whether he should speak openly about what happened in the field last night. "There are things I cannot discuss because I took an oath. If I can, we'll be able to talk about what happened last night later."

Adam nodded slowly. "I understand. I'm not a member of the Brotherhood, and what is discussed in my presence needs the approval of the Guardian."

Joshua smiled as he nodded. "So why don't we go and check in."

* * *

When Caleb rose the next morning, his headache from the last night remained in full force. Sighing, took a shower, hoping the hot water would relax his muscles. Instead the heat had just intensified the ache in his head. He got dressed quietly, not wanting to disturb Onida, and walked into the main room.

"Hey," Raylan said as he folded up the rollaway. "You feeling better?"

"Pretty much," Caleb said. "Dean? Sam?"

"Dean woke up just before dawn, talked some with Sam then fell back to sleep until about twenty minutes ago. Sam helped him back to their room so he could get a shower and they could change. I advised him to wear sweats until those wounds can be treated. Sam's better, but I think he's got a headache."

Caleb looked over at the sofa bed and saw that someone, probably Raylan, had already folded it away. "Thanks, and thanks for waking Sam every hour. Why don't you go get some uninterrupted sleep? I'm going to order breakfast, and I'll have some sent to your room so you can eat before you bed down."

Nodding, Raylan said, "Sounds good. But first, I've got something for you. Be right back."

Caleb leaned against the table and rubbed his neck. He couldn't completely remember being thrown across the field yesterday, but he knew it had been a long way … it felt like a long way. But he remembered some of the fight, and how fast the Dragon's Talon had countered the witch's spells. The blade seemed to have had a mind of its own; his hand appeared to move of its own accord. Maybe if Knights were psychic, the blade acted in perfect conjunction with their abilities. An interesting subject for research. Of course, the blade had been lost to the Brotherhood for over a hundred years before he'd found it. But maybe there would be some mention in Knightly Journals written prior to Wilmington's Triad. Daniel Wilmington, Cole Tanner and Samuel Colt had buried the blade along with many other Brotherhood artifacts, supernatural items and equipment when hunters threatened to overthrow their leadership. He, Dean, Sam and Joshua had averted another such takeover. Now, the Dragon's Talon was once more in the hands of the Knight of the Brotherhood. He didn't really know how fast his arm had been moving, he hadn't focused on it. He'd just abandoned himself to a single-minded determination to get to Piruz. But he knew it had been fast. It would have been unsettling if he hadn't known the blade was crafted by Merlin himself.

A soft knock sounded and Caleb went over to open the door. Raylan was standing outside holding out a box. "This was the box Kace and I found before we were attacked."

Caleb took the box. "Thanks. Now get some sleep. We'll reconvene this afternoon."

Raylan nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

Giving his neck another massage, Caleb went to the phone and ordered up some food; for the team, and another meal for Raylan to be delivered to his room.

While he waited, Caleb studied the new box. Putting it beside the others, he looked from lid to lid. He could detect some differences between them, but only minor. They were situated in the glyphs around the corners. Were the differences by design, or because different people carved the boxes? When these boxes were made, machines hadn't existed. So each box would have been individually carved. Thus, were the changes deliberate, or due to the skill of different hands? He wasn't a language expert, so Sam and maybe Brian would need to check them out. Suddenly he frowned. Three, there were differences in only three of the boxes. Two were the same; exactly. He sighed. All he had were questions, questions and more questions. Lifting one finger, he touched the top of each box and frowned: they were warm, all of them. Why? Yup, more questions.

Another knock at the door signaled the arrival of breakfast. Caleb pulled the cart filled with delicious breakfast plates into his room and shut the door. Eyes widening suddenly, he yanked back open the door and handed the waiter a tip, apologizing profusely as he did so. Closing the door again, he leaned against it with his eyes closed. He hurt all over, and his head felt fuzzy. He didn't have a concussion, but he felt like he did.

"I need to give you another once over," Onida said from the door of their bedroom, her expression worried.

Caleb smiled and stepped away from the door. "Morning. I'm fine. Just feel achy."

"You forgot to tip the waiter," Onida pointed out. "You never forget to tip. It's been ingrained in you since you were a kid."

"My head hurts," Caleb admitted. "And my body aches all over."

"Then let me give you another healing," Onida insisted. "Last night," she shook her head, "I was so tired, I didn't fully heal you. I need to set it straight."

"You need to heal Dean."

"And I will. But now," Onida stood aside and motioned for the bedroom, "Get inside."

Caleb grinned.

"And not for that," Onida stated.

Caleb chuckled as he walked into their bedroom and dropped onto the bed. Stretching out, he closed his eyes and sighed.

Onida knelt atop the mattress, closed her eyes and focused on healing the sore muscles and bruises Caleb had gotten when he'd been thrown so far. His body was one, long bruise. When she got nearer his head, she frowned. The spiraling cells she'd stabilized twice now were again, misfiring. "What the…" she murmured. Focusing hard, she healed and stabilized the cells yet again, making sure they were functioning properly before she sat back and opened her eyes.

Caleb had fallen asleep as she worked, and she stared down at him, frowning. She wondered if Sam's cells were in as much disarray as Caleb's. Climbing gingerly off the bed, she wrote Caleb a note saying she'd gone to check on Sam and Dean, picked up her keycard and slipped quietly out of the bedroom.

Once she was in the hallway, she stepped next door. She'd just raised her hand to knock on Sam and Dean's door when loud voices had her turning to see a man and woman coming down the hall, arguing vehemently.

"We shouldn't have come," the man was saying. "Now the business is suffering."

"I asked if you wanted to and you said yes," the woman hissed. "If you didn't want to get away, why didn't you say so?"

The couple stopped talking abruptly when they reached Onida, but started again as soon as they had passed by. Onida knocked on Sam and Dean's door wondering why they'd bothered to stop in the first place.

Sam opened the door and smiled. "Hey, Onida. How's Caleb?"

"He was achy this morning," Onida said, stepping inside, "but I did another round of healing and now he's asleep."

Sam frowned. "Another round?"

"I guess I was more tired than I thought last night." Looking up into the taller hunter's face, Onida was concerned with the dark bruising beneath his eyes and the pallor of his skin. "How's your head?"

"Concussion, but around dawn Raylan said I was fine to sleep. I got a couple hours, but could use a bit more, I guess," Sam said, running a hand across his face.

Onida raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in the air. "May I?"

Sam took a small step back. "I'd rather you check Dean first. Those wounds…" he shook his head. "They're pretty deep."

"I will. I just want to double check your concussion, all right?"

Sighing, Sam walked over to a chair and sat down.

Onida touched his head, letting her energy reach out, and wasn't surprised to find Sam's mind in the same state of disarray as Caleb's. Misfiring neurons, cells spiraling slightly, she focused on steadying their functions just as she had the other day. While she was there, she steadied Sam's blood pressure and helped to heal his concussion. Slowly, she pulled her energy away and stepped back. When she looked, Sam's skin color had improved and his eyes had lost their pinched look. "There we go," she said.

Sam watched her, frowning. "What's going on?"

"I just…"

There was a crash in the other room, and Sam swore as he darted through the bedroom into the bathroom. Onida could hear Sam and Dean's low voices, and a few minutes later Sam came out, shaking his head.

"Idiot." Looking up, Sam explained. "He tried to get out of the shower by himself. Fell and knocked over all the trays on the vanity.

Onida smiled. "Men."

"Hey!"

Onida laughed. "You're all the same; think you're invincible."

"Not all of us," Sam said, watching Onida closely. "Why did you want to check my concussion? I'd already said it was fine. Something else is going on."

Onida looked past Sam to their bedroom, then motioned for him to follow her to the couch. Once they were seated, she said, "Before, when you and Caleb were affected by whatever was affecting David Lassiter, your brain cells were misfiring, spiraling almost out of control."

Sam nodded. "From what you described to Ben, he said our parietal and occipital lobes were damaged somehow, impairing the visual and information processing routes of the brain. You healed that."

Onida nodded. "I did. But I've had to heal Caleb of that same thing again twice now, and you once."

Sam's widened in surprise. "What?"

Nodding again, Onida repeated, "I've had to heal you of that again. Whatever made that happen before, it's still happening."

"But…"

Dean walked gingerly from out of the bedroom still dressed in his sweats, a towel draped over his shoulders. Smiling, he said, "Hey, Onida."

"You don't look like you're feeling great."

"I've had worse," Dean said, shrugging.

"Come on," Onida said, "back into the bedroom. I want you comfortable while I take care of those wounds." She followed Dean and watched while he climbed slowly onto the bed. "Next time, dodge faster."

Dean huffed out a short laugh. "Tell the magic weapons to keep on a straight trajectory and you've got a deal."

Onida smiled and said, "Okay, lay back and relax. Close your eyes, focus on breathing and let me do my thing."

Holding out her hands, Onida let the energy she had pooled in her core flow out through her hand, healing the puncture wound in Dean's side, then the one on his chest before she had to stop.

"Here," Sam said, handing Onida a cold half sandwich that had been in his mini fridge from the day before. Looking down at his brother, he noted that Dean had fallen asleep. His breathing was nice and even, his face relaxed.

Onida took the sandwich, though she was worried she couldn't heal all Dean's wounds without needing a break.

Sam watched Onida a moment, before he asked, "Trouble?"

"No, not really, I guess," Onida said under her breath, not wanting to disturb Dean. "Well, maybe. I was troubled that I needed a breather. But I suppose I expended a lot of energy last night, then healed Caleb twice, then you, and now Dean. Maybe I just need to recharge more fully."

"Is that a lot for you?" Sam asked.

"Truthfully? Not really," Onida admitted. "I would work the canvas for hours at a time, and that was the full spectrum of energy."

Dean shifted slightly and Onida returned to her work, healing the wound in Dean's shoulder. When she finished, she and Sam left the bedroom, closing the door.

"Come on," Onida said. "There's breakfast over on our room, and right now, you and I are the only ones awake enough to eat it. We can talk there."

After scribbling Dean a note, they reconvened in Caleb and Onida's suite. Taking covered plates of eggs and hash browns, biscuits and fruit from the tray, they sat down at the table.

"So," Sam said, frowning. "My brain and Caleb's brain are still out of whack even after your healing us."

Onida nodded, taking a bite of her scrambled eggs.

Sam's eyes went to the four boxes sitting on the desk. "Do you think the boxes could be doing something to us?"

"No," Onida said. "Nothing is emanating from the boxes."

"But the wood is absorbing energy from whatever is inside, right?" Sam clarified. "You sure it couldn't be emitting something too?"

"No, I checked."

Sam nodded. "Is whatever this is affecting you too?"

Onida didn't answer immediately. "Maybe. I just don't have the energy I used to. But then, I'm not using it every day like I was before. Maybe I'm a little out of shape."

Sam frowned as he continued to eat. That didn't sound like Onida. Last year she'd fought against the witches in the forest, and she hadn't engaged them physically for over forty years. She was barely winded. Something wasn't tracking.

Onida watched him for a moment, then asked, "You have an idea?"

"I'm not sure." Sam took another bite, sorting out his thoughts. Finally, he said, "When David Lassiter said the fight broke out at the club in Mount Vernon, he thought that was because the box was opened. But we've ruled that out because when he did open the box, his body went haywire. If Piruz had opened the box in the club, he would have had the same reaction then."

"Okay, I'm following you," Onida said.

"Caleb and I were affected by the aftereffects of the box on David's body, but like him, we weren't affected by simply being around the box."

"So the boxes aren't the reason for whatever is happening to your brains?" Onida asked, frowning.

"Closed, they're not," Sam clarified.

"Then what are the boxes for?" Onida asked.

There was a knock on the door, and Sam hurried over to open it so Caleb wouldn't wake. Joshua, Adam and Daniel were standing outside.

Stepping aside, Sam said, "Come on in. Caleb ordered breakfast."

Joshua's eyes swept the room before he asked, "Where is he?"

"He wasn't feeling well, so I did a healing tune-up," Onida said with a smile. "He's asleep in the bedroom."

While Adam and Daniel went to the cart to get their breakfasts, Joshua stuck his head into the bedroom to check on Caleb.

Sam smiled. He couldn't have imagined some thirty years ago that Joshua and Caleb would develop such a brotherly bond. But he was glad they had.

Joshua came to the table with his breakfast plate and popped off the plastic top.

Onida glanced at Sam, wondering if he still wanted to continue their conversation. Just then Joshua said, "What were you two talking about?"

Sam chuckled while Onida laughed, then Onida explained about having to heal Caleb and Sam multiple times and Sam explained where he was heading about the boxes.

"So, if the boxes didn't set off the violence, what did?" Daniel asked.

Joshua frowned. "It may have been Piruz activating the boxes rather than the boxes themselves that resulted in the elevation of chaos. Frankly, mankind doesn't need much of a push to be violent."

"So," Sam said slowly, "we've got Piruz doing a circle around the country. He's placing boxes in certain cities, and then possibly setting off a firestorm of violence by activating them. My question is, why no violence in Mount Vernon or Huntsville?"

"Maybe because in Mount Vernon the box was removed, and so was the box in Huntsville," Adam said.

"That's why the boxes are now cemented to the ground," Daniel said, taking a bite of his hash browns. "I don't know why they're getting warm all of a sudden," he mumbled.

"If the boxes are the anchor for his spell…" Sam began before suddenly halting mid sentence. Eyes going to Joshua, he asked, "Can someone doing a spell activate the spell before the entire circle is completed?"

Joshua's eyes narrowed. "Yes, it's possible. But he would only have a short window to close the circle before the entire spell would collapse and dissipate."

Sam's eyes went to the boxes. "I bet that's why the boxes are warm," he said. "We've been tracking him and messing with the boxes. So he's already activated the spell." Looking to Joshua again, he asked, "For a spell of this size, how long before the spell dissipates if he doesn't finish it?"

Joshua lifted his shoulders slightly. "I've never seen something like this. But, if I were to guess, I'd say no more than three, maybe four days."

Sam stood. "He's already on his way to Raleigh. He has to place the boxes there. Then he's got one more stop before he finishes the spell. New York. We need to leave."

"We can't keep chasing him across the country with no real plan to stop him," Daniel said.

Joshua nodded his head in agreement. "If he's placing boxes, they're cloaked and locked down. We wouldn't be able to retrieve them. What we need to do is figure out a way to slow him down, and stop him."

"We need to break up into teams."

Everyone turned around to see Caleb standing in the bedroom doorway, his face pale but otherwise determined.

"What do you mean, break into teams?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"One team is assigned to dog Piruz, pick a fight, slow him down," Caleb said, walking over to the cart and picking up a plate of lukewarm food. Sitting at the table, he continued, "The other team works on figuring out what spell he's doing, what the boxes say, and how to stop him."

"We're not splitting up," Sam declared, his expression resolute.

"We have to," Caleb countered. "We don't know what spell Piruz is doing, we don't know what's in the boxes or what the lids say, and we don't know how to stop him. We need that information. Hopefully, if we slow him down enough, it'll give us the time we need to find those answers."

No one said anything for a few minutes, as food was eaten more slowly. Finally Joshua said, "How would you divide us into teams?"

Caleb looked around the table, then said, "Joshua and Sam head the brain trust, with Onida and Adam along. Dean and I will take the Dennis the Menace part of the equation, with Daniel and Raylan." When no one spoke, Caleb said, "I'm not saying we split up, physically. When you guys find out about the spell, we'll all need in on the ground floor. I'm just saying that instead of everyone going into the field, half the team goes while the other half continues to work on the puzzle."

Finally, Sam only said, "Dean needs to be here."

Caleb nodded. "Agreed. Tell me what you figured out about the box lids."

* * *

Piruz grimaced in pain as he drove his Hennessey toward Raleigh. His body ached from the spell thrown at him, and he hadn't had the time to heal the wound in his shoulder. Guns were a newer development for him, and he thought his spell would have stopped all the bullets. One had gotten through and lodged in his shoulder. Merlin's Child was an excellent shot.

After the battle last night, he needed to take time to recover from the drain of the spell someone had thrown at him. It wasn't Merlin's Child, that much he knew. And it wasn't Merlin's Warrior, though his power had been enormous. How he had countered every spell thrown his way had been impressive. He would need to find out more about that blade the young Warrior had wielded. It had to have been crafted by Merlin himself, wily old man. But no, the spell had been thrown by someone else, someone powerful. He would need to find out more about that man. His power was worrying, and he was too close to his goal to be stopped now.

Yes, he had carefully planned for this day, had picked this era specifically for its self-involved citizenry. But he would make mankind better. That half of them would die was regrettable. But those that remained would thank him, of that he had no doubt. He hoped Merlin's Warriors would survive. He thought they would have much in common if given the chance.

After taking time to gather his possessions, he'd left the home in which he'd been staying and got on the road. It was unfortunate he needed to drive during the daylight hours. There were more enforcers of the law patrolling the highways during the day. He needed to curb his speed in order to make his destination, and that was yet another irritation. But when he reached the city of his choice, he would take the time to heal the shoulder and regain his strength. Merlin's people would not know where he was, there were many cities and towns in this era. By the time they searched his chosen city in this province, he would have moved on.

He'd already cloaked the boxes from magical tracking, and he'd set the spell in motion. With the setting of the spell, the boxes locked into place, ready for the proper time. Yes, his plan was coming along, and Merlin's Guard would not be able to stop him. This time, the world would be at his feet and they would thank him for saving them.

* * *

Dean didn't like the idea of dividing until Caleb explained they would only be splitting up in the job focus sense, not geographically. "We're all going to Raleigh. It's just you and I are in charge of pissing off Piruz while they find out how to stop him."

"When are we leaving?"

"When Adam gets back from turning in his rented SUV. I've found a van that will allow the brain trust to work as they travel without getting a stiff neck." Caleb grabbed his laptop and pulled up a bookmarked page. "It's called a Vivaro Tourer. I already had them install a desk in the middle, and Sam, Joshua and Adam can work on the translation and the spell while Onida or Raylan drive."

Dean squinted at the computer screen until Sam handed him his readers. Grunting, he put them on and stared. Slipping them off again, he asked Caleb, "You can get this?"

"Yup. Adam and Raylan are ready to pick it up."

Dean felt his hackles rise. Everyone had discussed all this while he'd been asleep. Yeah, Caleb tended to run the show on the ground during a hunt, but he hated feeling like he was playing catch up. That's the way he'd felt pretty much this entire hunt.

"You'd lost a lot of blood last night," Sam stated, watching his brother and knowing what he was thinking. "You needed the rest, and we need you up and strong."

Forcing himself to quit being selfish, Dean gave Sam a grudging nod. It was the hunt that mattered, not him. Focusing on the task at hand, he said, "We know Piruz is headed to Raleigh. We need to call him out. Any ideas on how to do that?"

"We've been tracking him already," Caleb stated. "I don't believe he'll deviate from his pattern, not in the home stretch."

"So we dog his footsteps and force him away from the places he wants to hide his boxes," Dean stated.

"You'll want the locations of clubs again," Sam said, opening his laptop and typing in entertainment in Raleigh.

It was Joshua saying, "I can track his magic," that captured everyone's attention. "He's a powerful crafter. I can track that power."

Suddenly Dean's eyes twinkled, "Can you do the neat trick with the talking light?"

"I'll work on it," Joshua said with a smile.

A loud crash from the hallway accompanied by loud voices intruded on their conversation. Caleb rose, opened the suite door and looked out. When he unexpectedly hurried away, Dean, Sam, and Daniel went after him.

Down the hallway, four men and three women were shouting at one another in front of the elevator. Caleb was pulling one man back while a woman was hitting him with her hand carry. Dean ran for a man who was about to knock Caleb over the head with his briefcase and subdued him, tying his hand behind his back with his own necktie. Daniel and Sam were pulling two women apart while the third was vigorously jabbing the elevator button, obviously in a hurry to get on. Another man was about to shove the woman at the elevator panel aside when Daniel grabbed him and hit him on the jaw, pulling his punch enough so the man went down but wasn't knocked out. Dean grabbed the woman near the elevator, pulling her back while grabbing the collar of the man near her. He was seriously concerned people would fall inside in a heap and possibly get caught in the elevator door.

Then Onida was there, sending out soothing waves of energy and calming the heightened feelings and anger.

When things had settled down somewhat, Caleb lifted the man bound with the tie and exclaimed, "Are you all right? What the hell?"

"I was just trying to get down to the lobby," the man stated, brushing off his slacks and grabbing his luggage. "That man attacked me."

"I did no such thing," the accused proclaimed. "I was merely attempting to push the down button."

"It was already pushed!" shouted a third man.

"You were just trying to cut in line," said a woman who was attempting to straighten her hair.

"Shut up!" Dean hollered. Glowering, he pointed at two of the men and said, "You two. Get your things and your partners and go to the elevator at the other end of the hall." When one of the men started to protest, Dean growled in his coldest drawl, "Don't make me tell you twice."

The two couples grabbed their bags and hurried away.

Turning his gaze on the remaining three, Dean continued, "As for you. When the elevator gets to the floor, get on in an orderly fashion and don't speak to anyone until you check out. Got it?"

One woman opened her mouth, the closed it again as Dean fixed her with a cold stare. Instantly she nodded.

Sam was trying hard not to smile as he watched his brother take down these very aggravating people. Daniel had walked off, his shoulders shaking.

"Good." Stepping back a foot, he gave them his most charming smile. "You have a great stay at the Hilton." Then he turned and walked away, followed by Caleb, Onida and Sam.

When they got back into Caleb's room, Onida's laughter filled the room, lightening the spirits of all those inside. "That was … the best!" she giggled.

"I've never seen anyone in a nice end hotel act that way before," Daniel stated, a broad smile on his face. "First time for everything."

Daniel's words hung in the room a moment, a punctuated highlight of observation.

"First time for everything," Caleb murmured.

"We've never seen anyone in a nice end hotel act that way before," Sam repeated. Staring at his brother and Caleb, he said, "It's an affect of the spell Piruz started."

Onida frowned. "People having an argument?"

"A pretty extreme argument," Daniel commented.

"Chaos," Dean said abruptly, his eyes on Sam. "When David Lassiter called, he said that when his man asked Piruz what he wanted, Piruz said chaos."

Joshua stood suddenly. "Odette said it too; Mayhem."

"That's what is being unleashed," Sam said, pacing around the room. "Chaos. People are acting unnaturally, more aggressively." Turning suddenly to Joshua, he asked, "Is there a spell for that? Maybe when Piruz set the boxes, he needed to prime them with a smaller spell in order to tie them to the larger spell."

"And that's why there was violence in the cities," Caleb said.

Joshua frowned. In his studies of ancient magics growing up, he thought he remembered an old spell about violence, bedlam, confusion. "I believe there's an ancient spell about chaos," he said slowly. "In my crafter training, mother made sure I learned the history of magic and the older spells as well. No one uses them anymore."

"Do you remember reading about any sort of chaos inducing spell in your Brotherhood studies?" Sam asked, avoiding an overt mention of the Adviser journals or Joshua's studies in Triad magic.

"Not that I've come across," Joshua said, knowing exactly what Sam was asking. Going to one of the open computers, he began typing.

As he worked, the others paced the suite, waiting. Sam walked over and picked up a rubbing of the box lid, fighting the urge to search the Internet himself. But this was Joshua's area of expertise; he would know where to look. Caleb and Dean went for more coffee while Onida dropped onto the couch and Daniel leaned against the wall. Finally, Joshua said, "This may be it. I'll need to search further, make sure this is the only spell." Turning to face the others, he said, "It's very old. I'd need to examine its components, but there is a spell for inciting chaos."

There was a knock on the door, and when it was opened, Adam and Raylan walked in. "The Tourer is downstairs," Adam said.

"It's pretty amazing," Raylan stated. "I want to ride in it."

"What about the truck?" Daniel griped, then added, "Maybe I want to drive it too."

Raylan chuckled.

"There's plenty of room," Adam agreed. Looking around the room, he sensed something had happened while they were gone. "What going on?"

"There have been some breakthroughs," Joshua said.

Caleb looked to Joshua and said, "You've got a lot of work to do," he eyed Sam, "you both do. Let's get our things and get going."

"Not yet," Dean said, effectively stopping everyone in their tracks. "There's one thing we need to do first."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Open the box."

.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 15

.

"You're not opening the box," Sam declared hotly.

Joshua frowned. "I believe this an inadvisable…"

Caleb was simply regarding Dean, his gaze intense and thoughtful.

"Listen," Dean interrupted irritably. "You all knew this was coming. We need to know what's in the boxes. It's part of the puzzle we're trying to piece together before whatever spell Piruz is working on is completed."

Sam turned to Caleb. "Are you going to let this happen?"

Caleb didn't speak for a moment, then said simply, "Yes."

Sam started to yell, then bit his tongue. Looking down at his shoes, he blew out a measured breath and tried to stow his feelings. They needed to know what was inside the box, yes. But did Dean have to do it?

"What's in the box is a piece of this puzzle," Joshua commented finally. "Someone has to open it."

Dean eyed Sam, then said, "I think it would be safer if only essential people are in the room when I open the box."

Caleb's eyes flashed as he asked menacingly, "Essential, like who, exactly?"

"Me and Josh," Dean said.

"Not happening," Caleb countered.

"Absolutely not," Sam agreed.

Dean had already known he wasn't getting Sam or Caleb out of the room. But he could get everyone else. "Fine. Onida, you'll be in the bedroom in case we need your kind of help. Raylan, Daniel, I would appreciate it if you would load the tour bus…"

"The Tourer," Caleb corrected automatically.

"The Tourer," Dean continued, giving Caleb the stink-eye. "Load it with whatever luggage you can and Joshua's potion ingredients, then check us out. I want to be ready to get on the road as soon as possible. Like Caleb said, the brain trust rides in the Tourer to figure out how what's in the box impacts the spell, and to finish translating the box lids. Raylan, it's ride with Daniel or go in the Tourer. Adam, if you could..."

"I'll need Adam in here," Joshua said.

Dean quirked an eyebrow in the Joshua's direction.

"In creating a protection circle with me on the outside, I need someone to pour the circle while I do the spell. Then I'll close it."

Dean gave their Advisor a suspicious look. Joshua lay the circle and did the spell when he was on the _inside_. Why would his being outside make a difference? "Sam or Caleb can't do that?"

"Adam knows magic," Joshua said unnecessarily. In reality, he wanted Adam as backup in case something went wrong. But he didn't want to say that in front of Sam and Caleb.

Dean got the picture, however, and nodded. "Fine."

"I still think I should be the one in the circle," Caleb said. "As the Knight, it's my duty to protect the Guardian."

"Both you and Sam were affected by David's exposure to what's inside," Dean pointed out yet again. "It has to be me."

Caleb looked exasperated, but he nodded just the same. Turning, he walked away to get his duffel ready, Onida on his heels.

Raylan and Daniel headed for the door.

Dean looked at Joshua and said, "Let's get this done."

Sam eyed his brother for a second, then turned and left the hotel suite. Walking back to his and Dean's room, he jabbed his card key in the lock and shoved the door open. Once he was inside, he sagged against the door, his eyes closed. He'd come back to their room to pack his and Dean's duffels. But more importantly, he needed some time to get himself under control. The aftereffect of the concussion was still making itself felt, and he wanted to yell at everyone. With a sigh, he pushed away from the door and began to gather their things.

Dean merely stood there, knowing he was doing the right thing, but hating that two thirds of his Triad were against it.

"They know it's the right thing," Joshua said, coming up to where Dean was standing.

"I know." After a moment, Dean straightened his shoulders and looked around. "Okay, what's the plan?"

"We put a chair and table inside a circle. I'm going to make a couple potions to use on whatever is inside."

"Won't that activate … whatever's in there?"

"No, they shouldn't. One will be a spell of purpose, the other of origins. I want to know how old whatever's in there is. Then you'll close the box and we'll break the circle, setting you free."

"Fine. Then you do your thing and I'll move the furniture."

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Caleb were back in the room watching as Adam walked in a large arc, creating a meticulous circle in semi-luminescent sand. Inside the circle Dean sat in the suite's desk chair before a narrow table with a box on top as well as a silver platter and a couple of liquid spell potions.

Joshua nodded, watching as Adam came around and stopped the circle right before it closed. "Yes, excellent," he murmured.

"I still think I should be the one opening the box," Caleb grumbled for perhaps the ninth time.

Dean didn't bother to respond this time.

"So we were affected by David Lassiter," Sam stated. "That doesn't mean we'll be affected by whatever's in the box."

Dean gave his brother an incredulous stare.

Shrugging, Sam admitted grudgingly, "Doesn't mean we won't."

"Listen, I know you're both concerned…" Dean began. When Joshua gave a pointed clearing of his throat, he amended, "I know you're all concerned. I'm betting on this," he tapped his head, "giving me some protection. I'll only open it to look inside, do the tests Josh has set up, then I'll close it again like we agreed."

Adam stood up beside Joshua. "Ready."

Joshua nodded. Looking to Dean, he said, "This will seal you inside. You won't be able to get out unless I break the circle."

Dean nodded.

Joshua sealed the circle with his blood, and a bluish-red light rushed around the sand to complete a shimmering circle.

Dean looked to Sam and Caleb, then lifted a long silver knife, one very familiar to both Caleb and Sam.

Years before during a hunt for a black dog, Dean had been severely injured. He was ten years old. John, Pastor Jim and Boone Adams had gathered at Jim's hunting cabin to hunt for a black dog. When the older hunters had gone, Joshua had decided to find the dog's lair. Whether in competition with the older boy or a hunter's commitment that they didn't hunt alone, Caleb had gone with Joshua, bringing Dean and Sam along. Nothing had gone right that day, and Dean had been torn up pretty badly. The hunt had also resulted in Joshua as well as Caleb getting their Brotherhood rings. Dean felt like, as the injured party, he should have gotten a ring as well. To appease the injured boy's feelings, Caleb had pulled out the long, silver knife - a gift from John upon killing his first werewolf - and presented it to Dean for his bravery. It had been Dean's constant companion ever since.

Carefully Dean edged the knife around the box, attempting to separate the lid from the box. "This is really welded on here," he muttered, using the knife warily on one side as a saw.

"What's that on the knife?" Caleb asked, eyeing a black substance along the blade.

Dean stopped and examined the sharp edge. Fingering the gook, he said, "Feels like tar, wax and maybe oil." After wiping his fingers on the tablecloth, causing Joshua to wince, and turned his attention back to the box. Sliding the knife blade between the lid and the box, he worked gingerly to separate the two. "This is one tough lid," he mumbled. Setting down the knife, he continued his efforts using his fingertips for another minute or two before he was finally able to pry the lid off. Taking a deep breath, he lifted it up fully and peered inside. Frowning, he said, "Oh."

"How are you feeling?" Caleb asked anxiously

"Fine," Dean said, frowning.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean looked up and shrugged. "Seeds."

"What?" Joshua exclaimed, stepping a little closer as though to get a better look.

Dean tilted the box slightly so they could see the small black seeds inside the cocobolo wood box. Frowning, he asked, "Is there such a thing as magic beans?" Eyes widening, he asked eagerly, "Are we going to be able to grow a beanstalk?"

"Be serious," Sam snapped, frowning.

Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on the box.

Turning to Joshua, Sam asked, "Is there such a thing as magic seeds?"

"You have no imagination, Sam," Dean quipped.

"I suppose seeds could be imbued with magic," Joshua mused. "Most objects can."

Adam snagged a legal pad and asked Dean, "What do they look like?"

Dean's shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. "Like seeds." It was getting stuffy inside the circle, and he wiped the light sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"We know that," Joshua said, "But describe the seed."

Dean swallowed hard and blew out a low breath, staring inside the box. "Um, they're seeds, small, about a quarter of an inch long, a little less than that wide." Closing his eyes, he winced slightly.

"Dean…?" Caleb asked, stepping closer. "You good?"

Dean swallowed and said, "Yeah. Uh, they're dark and small; about twenty of them, I'd say." Looking up, he thought the room looked darker. He glanced around the ring. Yes, it was still intact, but his head felt heavy.

"Dean," Sam said, moving into his brother's eyeline. "Are you feeling all right?"

Dean looked up, his eyes dark. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he said impatiently.

"Continue describing the seeds, then I want you to put the lid back on the box," Joshua stated.

Dean's eyes swung to the Advisor. "I think I'm the one calling the shots here. I'm in the freakin' circle, right?"

"Put the lid on the box, Dean," Sam said gently.

Eyes flat and deadly blank, Dean said, "And who are you, to tell me what to do? I run this organization, not you. You think I'm stupid."

"No!" Sam exclaimed.

"Yeah, you do," Dean swung in Caleb's direction, "And you think I'm damaged. Well, I'm not."

No one spoke for a moment, then Adam broke the silence and said, "Excuse me, Sir. Can you tell me more about the seeds? At your convenience, of course …"

Dean's eyes narrowed, then he blinked. "Oh, yeah." Looking down, he said, "Uh, the seed is narrow in depth, with a crevice up the center…" Suddenly he stopped and grimaced. Images of standing over a narrow table with a knife in his hand flashed through his mind at the speed of light. "Yeah…" he breathed. "They're, um…" Closing his eyes, he felt the blade cool and solid in his hand, the cold steel of the table beneath his fingers. It had been terrifying at first, standing beside this table. But Alastair had been patient, and now it was life. The feel of the blade cutting into flesh, the give of skin and sinew, the way the blade hit bone and the resistance he felt before he pushed through the outer ridge to the marrow. And the screams; the screams were so amazing, so alive and he was so dead. Those screams stirred parts in him that were long dormant. He loved being able to feel something, _anything_ again.

"Dean…"

Opening his eyes, he saw Caleb kneeling outside the box, his face completely white. "Put the lid on the box, all right?"

"Why?" Dean asked, his eyes going downward. "We need to know what's inside."

"And we know what's inside the box," Caleb said. "Seeds, remember?" His eyes went to the pool of blood widening on the floor by Dean's right side and up to the shredded leg of his jeans where Dean had been slicing his knife into his thigh over and over again. "Thanks to you, we know there are seeds in the box."

Tilting his head slightly, Dean watched the man known as Caleb, and remembered. Giving a stuttering inhale, he murmured in a childish voice, "I'm not a good person."

"You're the best man I know," Caleb choked, his eyes wet.

"You're the most selfless person," Sam declared softly. "I love you so much, my big brother."

"You deserve someone better," Dean whispered. "Not …" he swallowed. He couldn't say out loud how horrible he was, how much he'd loved hurting all those people.

"I have the best brother there is," Sam stated, tears falling from his eyes.

Adam felt his heart wrench painfully as he watched the tableau unfolding before him. This was courage at its most primitive; unvarnished and true.

Closing his eyes again, Dean fought against the images of his ignoble time in hell and sought the absolution he'd worked so hard to achieve, the absolution blessed last year from Pastor Jim.

_Good job, my boy_, Pastor Jim said.

"Jim?" Dean murmured, frowning. _Are you there? Help me!_

_I'm always with you. Focus on Sam, on Caleb and Joshua, on me and your father, all those in the Brotherhood. You'll be able to close the box._

"Dean?" Joshua said, his face as white as Caleb's. "Can you hear us?"

Dean focused on Joshua's voice, shoving hell away. Finally, he opened his eyes. Seeing Caleb, Sam and Joshua, all with their faces near the circle, he smiled. "Hey."

Caleb closed his eyes in relief while Sam said, "Hey. Can you put the lid on the box? I think we've got enough to go on."

Dean stared down at the seeds nestled inside the dark wood box, then at the silver plate and the potions. "Josh wanted tests."

"No, I don't," Joshua said. "We've got enough."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "No. I'm in here, so we're doing the tests you want now, cause I'm not doing this again."

Joshua frowned. Realizing that Dean wouldn't leave without finishing, he thought he'd better do this as expediently as possible. "Okay, take one of the seeds out of the box and put it on the plate."

Dean stared into the box. Blowing out a steadying breath, he reached inside. The moment his fingertip touched a seed his brain lit up like a Christmas tree. "Ughh," he moaned. Fighting the colliding storms of darkness and light doing the tango in his head, he eyed the bottles of potion. Picking one up, he poured a tiny bit out onto the table.

Adam frowned. "What's he…"

But Joshua already knew, and nodded. "Good job," he said.

Dean touched the liquid, and a small silver shield appeared. The shield meant family, a lineage of valiance and selflessness. It meant the Brotherhood.

"Wha…" Adam stared, his eyes wide.

Keeping a hand on the small shield, Dean picked up the liquid again and put a drop on the seed. Dark green light emanated from the seed, and a small, curled vine slipped out and blossomed into a beautifully perfect leaf.

Joshua's brows rose in surprise. "Okay, get another seed."

Dean swallowed and nodded.

_Steady, my boy_, Jim murmured in his head.

Dean put a second seed on the silver plate. Picking up the second potion, he poured a drop onto the seed. Nothing happened.

Sam frowned. "Wasn't that the origin potion?"

Joshua nodded, his brows creased. "Yes. The seed is obviously mummified. It should have restored the seed to its original state."

By this time the first seed had sprouted another vine, this one sporting two perfect, glossy leaves.

Frowning at the two seeds, Joshua wished he'd thought of a third test before making the circle. He wouldn't be able to now; he couldn't get the potion inside the circle.

"What?" Adam asked, his eyes on Joshua.

"I just wondered…"

Dean was watching his Advisor. "If there's something else, now's the time to do it, boys."

Caleb and Sam jerked around to look at Joshua. "What?" Caleb exclaimed. "You want him to do another test? No! We need to get him out of there!" Blood was still dripping through the shredded jean fabric on Dean's wounded right thigh, though Dean seemed oblivious.

Sam's eyes were on his brother. His face was pale but he was sitting calmly at the table, his fingers on the silver shield he'd made. "What test?" he asked.

Caleb swung his eyes in Sam's direction, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"He's fine at the moment, and every second we waste debating this is precious." Turning to Joshua, he repeated, "What test?"

"Revelation, or purpose," Joshua stated, turning and rushing to the main table. "What the seed is meant to do or will do." Adam hurried to his side and they both began making a third potion. "Figure out how to get it to him," Joshua called over his shoulder.

Caleb and Sam stared at one another. "I'll do it," they said in unison.

Caleb gave a humorless chuckle. "I'll do it. I'm the Knight of the Brotherhood, and it's my job to protect the Triad."

Sam pulled Caleb further away from the circle. "It looked like he went mental in there for a moment. I've had Lucifer in my head, and I can fight him."

"You had him in your head for a moment when you took your swan dive into the cage," Caleb reminded him. "Do you remember when I wore the necklace? I fought for control against demons for hours and days. I can fight against any darkness in there. You hold my arm as I lean in. Once the potion hits the table, you pull me out."

Sam stared into Caleb's earnest eyes and finally nodded.

Joshua worked feverously and in a couple minutes walked a small vial of potion over to Caleb. "Just put it on the table and get out."

Caleb nodded, blew out a steadying breath and said to Sam, "Let's do this, fast."

Dean looked up. His fingers on the small silver shield were trembling, and he knew his control was waning.

Caleb walked over to the circle. Sam gripped his arm, and Caleb leaned over the edge of the circle with one thought in his head: drop the vial. Then, his brain went haywire. Thoughts chaotic and calm all collided in his mind and he grimaced.

Sam felt the echoing collision in his own head, and he yelled, "Joshua!"

Dean watched his friend and he saw the pain spread all over Caleb's face. Immediately he leaned over and grabbed Caleb's hand, pulling the vial from the stiff fingers. "Go!"

Joshua and Sam yanked, and Caleb fell outside the circle and onto the ground, his brain on fire. Sam dropped to his knees at Caleb's side, a grimace of pain on his own face.

Though Dean had taken his hand off his silver shield, concern for Sam and Caleb stormed through his mind. "Sam! Sam! Are you all right? Is Damien all right?"

Joshua was at Caleb's side as Sam staggered laboriously to his feet. "His pulse is erratic," Joshua said anxiously. Suddenly Caleb's body went stiff and he started shaking.

"He's having a seizure!" Sam yelled. Immediately he grabbed Caleb's arms and pulled him toward the bedroom.

"Caleb!" Joshua called out, starting to follow.

Adam grabbed his arm and said, "You need to finish so Dean can get out of the circle."

"I got it," Sam yelled, kicking open the bedroom door and dragging Caleb inside.

Joshua stared at Adam a moment, then nodded. Turning back to the circle, he saw that the second seed had also sprouted a vine with a bright, shiny new leaf attached. "Dean," he said. "Put the potion on the third seed."

Dean, who had been looking in the direction where Sam and Caleb disappeared, turned back around to face Joshua. "Caleb?"

"Onida's healing him now."

A moment later Sam rushed back into the room. "Onida's got him," he confirmed."He'll be fine."

"You?" Dean asked.

"My head is pounding, but Onida can tend to me after she heals Caleb."

After a moment, Dean nodded. Lowering himself back into the chair, he faced the table and pulled another seed from the box. The explosions and chaos in his head weren't as bad now. Maybe he was used to the affect of the seeds, maybe he was dying. He didn't care which; all he wanted was out of the circle. His hand was shaking as he picked up the vial of potion and tipped it onto the seed.

Abruptly a vine sprouted straight up, sporting several tiny limbs with leaves and tiny fruit. Then the whole thing went black and crumbled into dust.

Joshua stared for a moment, then swallowed. "Okay, Dean, put all the seeds back into the box."

Instead of doing what Joshua said, Dean was staring at the pile of black dust on the silver plate. "I can't put the dust back in." Looking up, he asked, "What do I do with that?" No way was he letting even one particle of that dust get out into the world.

"You're going to put the two whole seeds back into the box…" Joshua began.

"They've got vines and leaves growing on them!" Dean declared. "They won't fit into the box now!"

Joshua bit his lip.

Sam walked over. "What do we do now?"

It was Adam who said, "I think if Dean puts the seeds back into the box, the vines and leaves will disappear."

"Why would they do that?" Sam demanded, his eyes on Dean.

"Because of the cocobolo wood," Joshua stated, looking to Adam.

Adam nodded.

Joshua walked over to the circle and said, "Dean, you need to listen to me." He waited until Dean had looked up before he said, "Take the seed and put it back in the box. The vine and leaves will go way."

Dean looked down, head cocked to the side. "But its life, it doesn't want to die."

Joshua grimaced and tried to keep his voice even when he said, "And it will still be alive. It will just go dormant again, like it was before."

"Dean," Sam said, capturing his brother's attention. "Please, put the seed back in the box. Trust me."

_Trust Sam_, came Pastor Jim's voice cutting through the electrical storm in his brain.

Nodding slowly, Dean picked up the seed with the vines and gloriously green leaves and put it back in the box. Like Joshua said, the vine and leaves recoiled back into the seed, and it lay there, dormant once more. The second seed followed the first back inside, then Dean looked down at the black dust. "What do I do with that?"

"Take the second potion and put a drop on the dust. It should turn back into a seed," Joshua said.

"Really?" Adam questioned, frowning.

Joshua nodded. Though he wasn't completely certain the seed would be restored, the theory was sound.

Dean did as Joshua instructed and slowly poured a tiny amount of the potion onto the black dust. The dust reformed back into the seed, which Dean then picked up and put into the box. He replaced the lid.

"Okay," Joshua said. "Is the lid secure?"

Taking his knife, Dean gently knocked it onto the lid, then he nodded.

"All right, let's get you out of there," Joshua said with a smile, and he leaned forward and rubbed out the line.

Sam rushed to Dean's side, and Dean felt relief in the cooling wave of fresh air.

"Lie him down," Joshua ordered.

Trying to lift Dean and lie him down, Sam found himself struggling with his brother.

"What … are you doing?" Dean murmured, confused. His mind, suddenly free of the suffocating darkness and smothering light, couldn't understand why Sam was attempting to pull him out of the chair in which he was sitting. He could get out of the circle on his own, thank you very much.

"You need to sit down so we can tend your leg," Joshua explained, helping Sam lead Dean to the couch.

"My leg?" Dean looked down, and his mouth dropped open in shock. "What happened?"

Sam and Joshua exchanged a glance, but since no explanation except the truth was remotely possible, Sam explained.

Dean listened, and as he did he felt his face go red. He was so humiliated. "Sam," he said. It was difficult to speak in a collected manner, but he'd had a lot of practice at that, hadn't he? "Could you get my duffel?"

Sam didn't know what to say to make his brother feel better, so he nodded and left the room.

Joshua went for the first aid kit. Meeting Adam's gaze, Adam nodded and followed behind Sam.

Returning to the couch, Joshua knelt down and said gently, "Dean, why don't you remove your jeans? I think you're going to need a few new pairs."

Dean didn't say anything, just slipped out of his jeans and stared down at the gashes on his right thigh. Several inches long, the gouges went from moderately shallow to fairly deep. Some were still bleeding.

"Dean," Joshua said, trying to capture his friend's attention. He looked so lost and devastated, Joshua couldn't stand it. "Dean, can you tell me what happened?"

Dean didn't want to tell Joshua, he didn't want anyone to know what he'd done down there in hell. It was shameful, how much he'd enjoyed hurting people so he could feel better. He was supposed to champion the weak, and yet he'd done so much worse. Even Alastair, King of torture, had been proud of him. Eyes slowly raised, he looked directly into Joshua's eyes and quoted softly, "_Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen._" Sorrow swept through his eyes like a Kansas thunderstorm. "_Don't be afraid_."

Joshua couldn't look away. The depth of pain visible in Dean's expressive eyes was tragic. When he was finally able, he asked, "Where did you hear that?"

A ghost of a smile crossed Dean's face. "Pastor Jim."

Joshua gave a soft chuckle and nodded before he started tending to the gashes on Dean's leg. Taking his time, he gently washed each cut and incision, making sure each wound was carefully cleaned before he turned for the antibiotic. After smearing lines directly on the cuts, he said, "I'm going to get Onida."

Dean gripped Joshua's wrist before he could leave. "No," he whispered. "Please, just finish it." He didn't want the solace Onida's healing touch would bring. Right now he needed to be reminded that pain wasn't what made him alive. He needed to feel the difference.

Nodding, Joshua continued with the antibiotic cream and added a few stitches where the cuts went too deep. Then he carefully bandaged the leg thoroughly.

"I know you need to know about what happened," Dean said in a hushed tone. "I just … need a moment."

"I understand," Joshua said. Shifting slightly, he started packing away the first aid things.

"I hope you don't," Dean whispered.

The door opened and Sam walked in carrying Dean's duffel. He frowned when he saw the bandaged leg. When he glanced at Joshua, the older man merely shook his head. Standing with some difficulty, Joshua said, "I'm going to check on Caleb."

Dean looked up. "Damien…"

Sam held out a hand to keep Dean seated. "We'll check, all right?"

Dean nodded, his eyes following Sam and Joshua out of the room. When the younger man returned, he was smiling. "He's fine. Stills feels jittery, but Onida stabilized his brain cells and he's doing really well."

"What about you?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Headache. I'll have her check out my brain cells too, after she checks you out."

Dean shook his head. "I'm okay. I don't want to be checked out."

Sam watched Dean a moment, then nodded. He wasn't about to let that stand for long, but it could stand for now. They needed to get on the road. His brother had always found the road to be a cathartic and healing place.

Opening Dean's duffel, he pulled a pair of jeans from the depths and handed them over. Dean nodded and stood gingerly, pulling them on.

"When do you want to leave?" Sam asked.

Dean glanced up, then said, "When you and Caleb are ready."

"Then I'll get the all-clear from Onida and we'll head out."

Nodding, Dean turned and pick up his shredded jeans, then sighed.

"You'll talk to me when you're ready," Sam said softly before turning and heading back into the bedroom.

Caleb was lying on the bed, looking aggravated and annoyed. Seeing Sam again, he pushed himself up and asked, "How is he?"

"Not great," Sam admitted. "Getting on the road will help."

"It always does," Caleb agreed, shoving himself up into a sitting position.

Onida shoved at his shoulders and ordered, "Lie back down."

"I can't," Caleb said. "We need to get on the road, Dean needs to get on the road. I won't be driving; I'll be sitting in the passenger's seat, resting."

"Dean shouldn't be driving," Joshua said softly.

"He needs to," Caleb said. Pushing himself into a standing position, he wavered slightly before forcing himself up straight. Smiling at Onida, he said, "I'll be fine. Can you check Sam, make sure he's all right?"

Joshua walked alongside Caleb as they left the room.

Onida's eyes lingered on the door before she signed and turned to Sam. "You ready?"

"He'll be okay," was Sam's reply.

Straightening her shoulders, Onida said, "I know. Come on. Let's get this done and get on the road to Raleigh."

* * *

Dean sat behind the wheel, conscious of the road speeding beneath the tires of his Baby, the way the wind lifted his hair since the window was down, the purr of the engine powering their way toward Raleigh North Carolina. He was painfully aware of Caleb sitting in the passenger's seat, staring out the window. "I'm fine, you know."

Caleb didn't bother to look around or answer. He could feel the anxiety and pain radiating off Dean like a heater at full blast in winter. Dean would be fine, of that he was certain. But right now? He wasn't remotely fine.

Dean's gaze flickered over to his best friend, and he sighed. "Okay, I'm not fine."

Caleb still didn't turn around. He merely nodded.

Alarmed, Dean abruptly worried that Caleb had seen what he'd done to all those people in hell, and he was repulsed. Though he'd told Caleb everything he'd done when he was in hell years ago, reliving it in living bloody color where Caleb could see it was another thing all together. His fingers gripped the steering wheel as he tried to contain the anxiety he knew Caleb would also feel. He was so in a no-win situation here.

Caleb looked around, trying to keep his own emotions under control. "I…" he broke off. He didn't know if his friend would accept what he wanted to say.

"I get it," Dean said softly. "It's okay. I hope you didn't get a full-frontal of what happened … down there." He swallowed. "But I understand if that's changed things."

"It has changed things," Caleb began.

Dean nodded, his chest so tight with emotion it was a wonder he could breathe at all.

"I didn't think I could admire you more." Caleb shook his head. "I know we're delving into chick flick territory, but you have more strength, character, nobility and courage than anyone I have ever known." Watching his friend, his brother in every way that mattered, he could feel the emotions storming through Dean's body. Deciding to lighten things up a bit, he stated, "I want to be you when I grow up."

The wheel jerked slightly under Dean's hand, reflecting his surprise. Snorting out a laugh, Dean murmured the obvious, "You're older than me."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Caleb stated, slouching into his seat to get more comfortable. "But we're in the business of the impossible, aren't we?"

Nodding, Dean said, "We are."

Caleb gave a single nod and closed his eyes, "Wake me when we get there."

"Yeah," Dean said softly. He tried to steady his breathing, but the feelings inside were a power he couldn't control. Stress, fear, relief, and utter gratitude broke free. Tears slipped down his face as the emotions that had been bottled up inside found their escape.

* * *

Sam frowned at the translation spread out on the small desk in the Tourer. Despite the comfort of their new van, he was having a hard time concentrating. The puzzle on the box was intriguing, but his mind kept going to the devastated face of his brother. He wanted to be in that car with Dean, wanted to tell him how much he admired him, wanted to be the solid presence he needed right now. But that honor had gone to Caleb, and he was a bit angry, quite a bit disgruntled and a lot jealous about that. That his head was still hurting was another irritation that made focus difficult.

Sighing, he leaned back against the plush headrest and looked outside. The Vivaro Tourer really was an amazing ride, though he found himself missing the vibrant hum of the Impala's engine. There were three rows of seats. One row of three was near the rear of the van facing the front. A narrow desk partitioned the space between it and the second row of seats, which faced the rear of the van over the desk. The last two seats faced front; one for the driver, the other the standard passenger seat. Onida was driving while Sam, Joshua and Adam worked in the back. Raylan had opted to ride with Daniel in his truck. Sam sat in the back row facing front, while Joshua and Adam sat in the seats facing the rear, with a view out the back window.

Something about the translation was nagging at him; it was like a revelation just on the cusp of his thoughts, but he couldn't lay a hand on it. Onida had said his brain cells were spiraling again like before, but he'd been expecting that. His headache had been ramping up since yesterday, and he had a feeling he knew why. But the pounding in his head was making it difficult for him to put it all together. It was maddening. Reaching into his duffel, he pulled out a bottle of pain killer and shook out three, downing them with some water.

"Why don't you get some sleep," Joshua suggested.

Sam looked over, frowning. As what Joshua said crystallized, he smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I mean, I _will_ be fine as soon as the pain killer kicks in."

Joshua regarded him for a bit before he said, "I know what the symbols in the corners are."

Sam's eyes widened. "Yeah?"

"North, south, east and west."

Sam goggled. "Seriously?"

Joshua smiled. "Alison's team figured it out," he pointed to his computer. "I just got the email. You probably have one too. She said the language was difficult to figure out because there wasn't an abundance of documentation on the symbols. It's Phoenician. It took quite a bit of sleuthing before they were able to assign a definitive meaning."

"Wow, that took a lot of work," Sam murmured. Slowly he pulled the boxes out from inside his duffel. Each was individually wrapped in a towel from the hotel. He knew Caleb would get charged for the missing bath towels, but didn't think he would mind. After Dean's experience, he'd been reluctant to simply put them on the table as though they weren't dangerous. But now, he, Joshua and Adam bent over the four boxes and studied the symbols in the corners.

"This one's north," Joshua said finally.

Sam nodded absently before pointing to another box. "West."

"This one must be … "

"South," Adam interjected.

"And so is this one," Joshua added.

"So, north for Mount Vernon," Sam said, "west for Anaheim, two south boxes for Huntsville."

"So, if there are cardinal markers on each box," Adam said, "that means the witch is placing them along their cardinal points for a specific reason."

Sam massaged his aching head. "It's another piece of the puzzle. If only we knew how it all fits together."

"Adam has a surprise for you," Joshua said with an excited smile.

Sam's eyes opened and shot to the stoic crafter.

"After all the excitement yesterday," Adam began, "I couldn't sleep last night. So I started looking into the symbols along the bottom of the lid. Since this man is a witch or sorcerer, I figure there had to be something magic-related on the lid somewhere." He looked over to Joshua. "With Joshua's help, we just finished the last symbol."

Sam's brows rose in excitement. "So we've got the center lines translated along with how the glyphs between the lines change the meaning. The four corner symbols are translated, and now the symbols along the bottom of the lid are translated? Excellent!" he enthused. Finally, maybe all their work on the box lid would yield some real clues as to how the spell worked.

"The five symbols are ancient magical runes and sigils," Adam said, "Each one in a different language."

"Dean said this man was old," Joshua added. "And both you and Caleb confirmed that when he tried getting into your heads. It would make sense that he would have studied magic in several different cultures. He used the knowledge from all those different societies to create the symbols along the bottom of the lid."

Leaning forward, Sam scoped out the pages of notes, asking, "What do they say?"

"This one," Adam pointed to a symbol with a merged moon and sun, "is cosmic balance. This one," he touched on what looked like a crocked branch, "is death."

"We believe that over time the branch morphed into the symbol of the sickle we now associate with death," Joshua commented. "But the earlier symbol showcases life not growing in a straight, strong direction."

Sam nodded, writing the symbol in his notes.

"This sigil," Adam continued, pointing to a lattice-like symbol, "symbolizes the concept that actions of the past affect the present and the future."

"This one was a bit of a mystery" Joshua pointed to a circle with three mushroom-shaped symbols inside. "Adam thought it might have been Sumerian, so we asked Alison and her team to check it out. Thanks to their quick work, we found out it's an ancient Mesopotamian symbol for the sun."

Sam squinted down at the circle mushroom-like flower. "Seriously?"

"It's very old," Adam concurred. "Ancient scribes were more literal. The sun comes up over the horizon and spreads it rays out over the earth as it rises…"

"Like a flower," Sam added.

Adam nodded. "This last rune that looks like a loose "W" with a long tail on the left symbolizes water, or life."

"What it looks like we've got spelled out here at the bottom of the box," Joshua said, "is a cycle of life and balance: Cosmic Balance, Death, Sun, Life and Actions affecting the present and future."

Sam felt like his brain was on fire, so many thoughts were colliding. There was an idea on the fridges of his consciousness, but he couldn't quite lay a finger on it. "Life, death, balance and actions…" he muttered, his eyes darting back and forth across his notes.

"Sam…?" Joshua was watching the younger man, excitement starting to tingle along his skin. "You have something?"

Adam leaned forward, his attention focused on Sam.

"I think…" Sam frowned. "Hang on…" He shuffled through his papers and pulled out the translation of the four lines. "_Hidden in place until time ends, first home of humanity. Knowledge forbidden yet sought. Warning unheeded, consequence untold: remain hidden_," he mumbled under his breath. "It can't be," he shook his head. "It just can't be. That's impossible."

Joshua merely watched the Scholar. He knew Sam was on the verge of a revelation, but hadn't the vaguest idea of what that could be.

Suddenly Sam looked up. "When Dean opened the box and poured that first potion on the seed, a vine and a leaf sprouted out. What was that potion again?"

"Purpose."

Sam wrote that down, mumbling, "Purpose of the seed is to give life, shown as a vine and leaf." Looking up again, he said, "The second was on age…"

Joshua nodded. "Origin."

"Right…" Sam mumbled.

"I expected whatever was inside to be mummified, as the seeds were. But the origin spell should have taken the seed back to its original form. That would identify the genome of the specific seed; where it came from, what spells it would be used for."

Sam looked up, frowning. "I thought we were looking for a chaos spell."

"We are. However, before opening the box we didn't know what was in there. If whatever was inside was biological, which was a good guess since all spells use natural ingredients, the potion would have restored it to its original state."

"But it didn't," Adam added, frowning. "The seeds were small, shrunken, black; obviously mummified. Why didn't the potion restore the seeds?"

"When Dean used the potion on the decimated seed, it was restored to what we think is the mummified state," Sam said slowly.

Shaking his head, Joshua said, "I don't really have an explanation…"

"Unless the seed wasn't mummified," Sam interrupted, his eyes glowing with the fervor of being on the trail of something big. "Unless it was already in its original, pristine condition."

"You think the boxes were old but the seeds weren't?" Adam asked.

Sam eyed the other two and said slowly, "I think the box _and_ the seeds were both old."

Joshua made an irritated sound. "If the seeds were old enough to be mummified, then how could they be in their original condition?"

"Because the seeds _can't_ _get_ old," Sam stated, excitement shimmering in his voice.

The van veered slowly to the right and everyone turned to look out the front windshield.

"We're in Raleigh," Onida called over her shoulder. She exited the freeway following the Impala and Daniel's truck. They wound through several streets before Dean pulled into the Homewood Suites by Hilton. Caleb climbed out and went inside.

"We're staying the night?" Adam asked, frowning.

"I didn't think so," Onida said. She climbed out of the Tourer and stretched. Everyone else got out as well and stood milling around and stretching while Caleb was inside.

Sam walked over to the Impala and climbed into the passenger side beside his brother, who had remained seated behind the wheel. "Don't need to stretch?"

Dean shook his head.

Sam merely nodded. "We may be making some good headway on this whole spell thing."

Dean looked around, and Sam was struck by how wrecked his brother looked. Anger at this hunt and the toll it was taking welled up inside. Turning, he smacked his hand against the dashboard.

Dean's eyes widened. "Are you okay!?" and, "What the hell!"

Sam's head pounded and he nearly winced. But the welcome indignation at any perceived damage to Dean's Baby kept him from showing the pain on his face. "Sorry. It's just … trying to track down this witch guy is maddening."

"Yeah? Well, Baby didn't do anything," Dean muttered, himself welcoming the moment of normality.

Sam smiled. "What's Caleb doing?"

Dean shrugged. "Just said wait here, so I am."

"We staying the night?"

"I'm not sure. It's almost eight hours to New York. Trying to find our magic man there will be a nightmare."

"Joshua said he could track his magic," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah."

The side door to the Homestead opened and Caleb walked out. Jogging up to the Impala, he leaned on Dean's open window and said, "I've rented a conference room inside. Let's get in there and set our game plan in action."

Dean nodded, and he and Sam climbed out of the car while Caleb filled in the others. It was a further twenty minutes before everyone was gathered in the conference room, and another twenty before they were dining on hot chicken, mashed potatoes, salad and southern chocolate cake and coffee.

Though his plate was loaded with delicious food, Dean just couldn't eat. His leg was painful and his stomach was in turmoil. Rarely was there a time he wanted a hunt over more. Caleb was at his side, providing a solid comfort, one he knew he needed right now. Conversation around the table was sporadic as the team focused more on eating than talk.

A loud crunching crash sounded from outside the building. Caleb was on his feet in a flash, jogging for the door followed by Dean. Along the side of the hotel building a man had rammed his car into another as they were both vying for the same parking spot. Now the two men were on the ground in an all out tussle for the space, fists flying. Caleb, Sam, Daniel and Raylan separated the two while their families watched in tears. Dean limped several parking slots to the side, making sure his Baby hadn't been a causality of the conflict.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Raylan demanded.

"I was pulling in and he tried to get in front of me!" shouted one man.

Sirens were heard as two police vehicles pulled into the Hilton lot, and soon they left the sorting out of the mess to the authorities.

"What's going on?" Daniel muttered as they stepped back into the conference. Shaking his head, he dropped back into his chair.

Sam frowned and grabbed his computer as the others resumed their interrupted meal. Flipping open the laptop, he began surfing the major news stations.

"Sam," Onida said. "You need to finish your meal. You're going to need it."

"Sam needs to finish what he was saying in the van," Joshua stated irritably.

"Tourer," Caleb corrected absently.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just…" Sam trailed off, frowning as he continued to read.

"Let him do his thing," Dean commented, finally tucking into his chicken. "When Sam's on the information trail, nothing takes his attention away. When we were young I nearly had to give him nourishment intravenously a couple times."

Joshua looked perplexed while Caleb, Onida and Daniel laughed.

The comment, however, succeeded in getting Sam's attention as he looked up and said, "What?" then declared, "You did not!"

Dean smiled at the familiar look of indignation on his brother's face. "What are you doing?"

"I was searching the headlines for news on chaos and violence. It's all over the place."

Joshua frowned and pulled his own laptop toward him as Adam and Onida did the same. "I got north," he said.

"South," Adam declared.

"East," said Sam.

"That leaves the West for me," Onida stated, typing away on Caleb's laptop.

Caleb, Daniel and Raylan continued with their meals while the others worked on their computers. Finally, Caleb rose and started clearing most of the plates and the leftovers with Raylan's help. Looking at Dean's full plate, he muttered, "Don't make me feed _you_ intravenously."

Dean rubbed gently at his right thigh near the wound, attempting to covertly knead the knot of pain away. "Whatever."

"Just eat," Caleb snarled as he dropped back into his seat. "Let's have Onida heal that."

Dean shook his head. But he did pick up his fork and dug into his potato salad.

Sighing, Caleb handed over a bottle of aspirin, choosing to be satisfied Dean was at least eating.

"There are outbreaks of violence and unrest all over the west coast," Onida reported. "One news site says the insanity is a result of a localized heat wave." She rolled her eyes. "Local like the entire coastal area."

"The south is a hot zone too," Adam said.

"The north as well." Joshua looked over at Sam. "What about you?"

"Yeah, but not all over the east. There's a pocket of seeming calm in the midst of the storm."

"Let me guess," Caleb said, "New York and the states just surrounding it?"

"You got it," Sam stated. Looking up, he continued, "I think this is confirmation that Piruz has activated whatever spell he was working. Now he's got to finish it."

"Or it collapses," Adam confirmed.

Sam nodded.

"How far are we on figuring this out?" Dean asked.

Joshua looked over at Sam, since it was Sam who seemed to have had a breakthrough.

"I think I may have something figured out," Sam said slowly, "but if you guys don't mind, I'd like to go ever everything, make sure my conclusions are right." If his theory was correct, it was so far out there, he needed the methodical approach to ensure it made sense.

Dean nodded, taking a bite of his chicken.

"Okay, we now know that Piruz is performing a spell that encompasses the United States. We've identified it as a chaos spell, namely because Piruz said it himself in Chicago. The boxes placed around the continent are the anchors for the spell. He activated these boxes with a spell of some kind that had a result of extreme violence for a limited duration of time in the cities where the boxes were placed." Sam stopped and took a gulp of water before he continued. "All signs at this time point to Piruz as having activated the larger spell."

"Signs, like what?" Daniel asked.

"The uptick in violence and upheavals around the country," Sam said. "People acting out of character, getting into fights, arguing over elevators, the cleaning lady who was cleaning for the sheer joy of it, other stuff we've witnessed and have seen on the Internet. That means he has a three to four day window to complete the spell or it dissipates," he looked at Joshua for confirmation.

"With a spell of this size, I lean on the side of four days before dissipation," Joshua confirmed.

"We don't know when Piruz activated the larger spell, but I'm thinking it was in the last couple days. So we're on the clock."

"Two days and counting," Raylan drawled.

"What else?" Joshua asked Sam.

"Okay, we have the information on the top of the boxes now," Sam continued. Wincing slightly, he massaged his temple in a vain attempt to dispel his pounding headache.

"You've got the entire lid translated?" Caleb said. "Well done, guys."

"You're going to owe Alison and her team a bonus," Sam smiled. "And maybe a spa date."

"Done," Caleb said with a smile. "You men want a spa date too?"

"Maybe a massage," Joshua quipped.

Dean limped over and handed Sam the bottle of aspirin Caleb had gotten for him. With a nod of thanks, Sam down two before he turned back to his computer and pulled up a picture of the box lid he'd scanned into his computer and turned the screen around. "These four symbols in each of the corners are north, south, east and west."

"We have one north, one west and two south boxes," Joshua said.

Sam nodded. "Joshua and Adam figured out the five sigils or runes at the bottom are magical symbols. This one," he pointed, "represents Cosmic Balance. Then next," he pointed again, "Sun, and the next Life. The rune is called the Web of Wyrd, and it symbolizes actions of the past affecting the present and the future. The sigil on the left symbolizes death."

Joshua was eyeing the symbols. "They're a path, like through life. There's a balance in the cosmos where sun and life exist. The web symbol shows that our actions have consequences, and death is inevitable."

"It's Middle Eastern in pattern," Adam relayed. "The cycle path goes from right to left."

"That supports what we know about this guy," Caleb interjected.

Sam nodded. "And so we're back to the center prose." He read, "_Hidden in place until time ends, First home of humanity. Knowledge forbidden yet sought. Warning unheeded, consequences untold: Remain hidden._" Looking up, he said, "We thought the first home of humanity was probably an ancient city, and the knowledge forbidden yet sought referred to ancient dark magiks that were frowned upon in pretty much every culture."

"If that's not the message, then what is?" Caleb asked.

Sam's eyes sparkled. "I think this box is talking about an even older place. _Hidden in place until time ends_," he quoted.

Adam frowned. "You mean a city so ancient, it existed before there was any documentation?"

"How would we find a place like that?" Daniel asked.

"No, I'm not talking about an ancient city," Sam said.

Raylan was frowning. "You mean another dimension?"

"No, not another dimension," Sam said grinning.

Joshua frowned, then suddenly his eyes widened. "Impossible."

Sam laughed, delighted.

Caleb rolled his eyes and said irritably, "Care to share with the class?"

Eyes alight with fascination and excitement, Sam declared, "The box is talking Eden, the Garden of Eden."

No one spoke.

Sam's eyes went to the box. "_Hidden in place until time ends_." Looking up, he said, "After Adam and Eve and all their descendants were kicked out of the Garden, God sealed it up until the end of time. There are four angels guarding each entrance: one in the south, one in the north, another at the east entrance and the last at the west gate." Eyes going to Joshua, he said, "Eden isn't in another dimension. It's just hidden right here. People have searched for it for centuries, but have never found it even though the Bible says exactly where it is."

Raylan and Daniel eyed one another, their faces reflecting their astonishment and their doubt.

"You're serious?" Caleb said, frowning.

"'A river watering the garden flowed from Eden; from there it was separated into four headwaters. The name of the first is the Pishon; it winds through the entire land of Havilah, where there is gold. (The gold of that land is good; aromatic resin and onyx are also there.) The name of the second river is the Gihon; it winds through the entire land of Cush. The name of the third River is the Tigris; it runs along the east side of Ashur. And the fourth river is the Euphrates.'" Joshua looked up from his cell. "Genesis Two."

"The Tigris and the Euphrates are readily identifiable now," Sam stated. "The most noted Biblical scholars identify Pishon as the Nile River, and Gihon as the Blue Nile, which begins in Lake Tana in Ethiopia and meets the White Nile in Khartoum Sudan, where together they form one river that flows all the way to Egypt."

"All these rivers, rivers we can clearly map today, flow from Eden," Caleb stated skeptically.

"Yes," Sam nodded as he looked at everyone around the table. When no one commented, he went on. "Okay. The next line says, _First home of mankind_. We were thinking an ancient city, but the first home of mankind was the Garden, where God made man and put him in charge of all the beasts of the field and the birds of the air."

Dean hadn't said anything because in truth, he really couldn't believe what he was hearing or that they were even having this discussion. He'd come to grips with there being God and angels years ago. But Eden, that was weird on a whole other level nearly beyond his comprehension. He wished Castiel was still around so he could confirm what Sam was saying. After all, the writing on that box lid was very old.

Sam continued on. "_Knowledge forbidden yet sought_. That has to be the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God let Adam and his descendants eat from any tree in the Garden, but they were forbidden to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil."

"Then why did God put it there in the first place?" Caleb asked.

"Faith," Onida said, breaking her silence. "God wanted mankind's trust, their faith. Faith that He would do the very best for them, refusing them nothing good, only that which would cause harm. The tree was so Adam and his descendents could show that they trusted God."

Caleb stared at Onida while Sam and Joshua nodded.

"And so we come to the worst part," Sam said. "Adam and Eve ate from the tree. _Warning unheeded, consequences untold._ Sin entered the world with Adam's disobedience and the Garden was locked."

Daniel murmured. "To remain hidden."

"Until the end of time," Joshua murmured.

"Yeah," Sam said. No one spoke.

Finally Caleb laughed.

Sam, Joshua and Adam looked surprised while Daniel rolled his eyes. Raylan merely shook his head and picked up his lukewarm cup of coffee.

"Frickin' Garden of Eden." Caleb looked around the table before laughing again. "What the hell are we supposed to do with that?"

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Dean quotes to Joshua from; Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC's of Faith, by Frederick Buechner. (Very Pastor Jim!)_


	16. Chapter 16

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 16

.

Caleb left the conference room, shaking his head. He claimed he needed to get their rooms sorted for the night, that if they wanted to be on the same floor it needed to be done now. Dean thought he just needed to get out of the room so he could vent his laughter without Sam punching him on the nose. He had to admit, he found Sam's conclusion pretty farfetched.

Sam knew exactly what his brother was thinking. "It all makes sense, Dean."

"Really? How? The Garden of Eden?" Dean sighed. "Caleb's right; what are we supposed to do with that? How does the Garden of Eden tie into chaos all over the country?"

"Not the Garden, exactly, but what was _in_ the Garden."

Dean stared at his brother a moment, then suddenly got it. "The seeds?"

Sam nodded. "We've been focusing all our attention on the violence part of what happened in Baltimore, Stillwater, the other cities, but we forgot the other side."

"The altruism," Joshua interjected.

Sam nodded. "Donna Hanscum said that the Stillwater Police Benevolent Fund received a record three-hundred-thousand in unsolicited donations when they usually receive around twenty-five thousand with direct fundraising. Diana Ballard said something similar happened in Baltimore. Ethan said there were extreme acts of charity in Houston. Houston Fire and Rescue claimed they had more donations than any other time ever. He also said people were bringing food and water to the station so the cops would have meals during the crisis, and that convicts were feeling complete remorse for their actions and confessing to priests, family, even police officers."

"Extreme good and extreme bad," Raylan observed.

"Yes."

"But there's always been the good and the bad," Daniel stated.

"On a natural level, yes," Sam agreed. "But what about bringing something into this world that gave complete revelation and utter clarity? Something that wasn't meant to be in our realm, then using a spell to enhance its affect on society?"

"A Chaos Spell," Joshua interjected. "From the elements of this spell; the placing of the circle in a counter-clockwise position, inciting a violence from talismans, he is definitely doing a chaos spell."

"What is the spell called?" Adam asked.

"The Chaos Spell," Joshua said with a smile. There was some chucking before he went on, "I haven't had a lot of time to examine and dissect the spell, but it looks to be very old and very powerful."

Just then the door opened and Caleb walked back in with a few keycards in his hand. Dropping into his chair, he spun the keys across the table to Raylan, Daniel, Joshua and over to Sam. "Raylan and Daniel, you both have rooms next to one another. Josh, you and Adam will share a two bedroom suite. Sam and Dean have a double with me and Onida next door. We're all on the same floor." He wanted Sam in the same room as Dean in case Dean needed him nearby.

Dean smiled. "Thanks."

No one seemed inclined to continue the discussion, so Caleb finally sighed and said, "Okay, impossible Gardens. How does that help us?"

"A tree from the impossible Garden," Sam stated, eyeing the Knight.

Caleb's brows rose.

"According to Biblical teaching," Sam said, in his element, "Adam and his descendants were pure in the Garden. They had everything good come to them directly from the Hand of God. When Adam ate of the forbidden tree, knowledge of evil, darkness and sin entered him and every descendant in the Garden by proxy. God wouldn't let them live forever now that sin had entered their lives, so he banished them from the Garden. Now they could die."

"So, before they ate of the tree, all they thought were good thoughts?" Caleb stated.

"I guess," Sam said. "Their thoughts were in alignment with God. Now, they were rebellious, covetous, sinful."

Raylan frowned. "That happened all at once?"

"Probably not," Sam said. "Most likely over time their actions and thoughts degraded because of sin. One of the first great sins happened after Adam and his descendants were kicked out of Eden. Cain murdered his brother Abel because he was jealous that God honored Abel's offering and rejected his own." He gave Dean a covert look, considering himself the luckiest man in the world to have a brother who cheered Sam's triumphs instead of being jealous of them.

"So, let me get this straight," Caleb said slowly. "If the seeds from the Tree of Good and Evil…"

"The Tree of the _Knowledge_ of Good and Evil," Sam corrected. When Caleb gave him the evil eye and he added with a shrug, "Though the simplification doesn't change anything."

"If the seeds are here, why would that change anything? Mankind was exposed to evil and darkness several millennia ago."

"They were exposed then banished from the purity of knowledge the tree revealed," Joshua said. "Eden was purity of beauty, purity of harmony, purity of their walk with God. Earth isn't like that. So, what happens if you bring that intensity of knowledge into a world ill prepared for it?"

"Chaos," Caleb said slowly.

Joshua and Sam both nodded.

"Good impulses get gooder and the bad get badder," Dean remarked.

Sam smiled. "Pretty much."

Joshua looked at Dean. He hated to ask about it, but they needed to know what happened when Dean opened the box. "Can you tell us what happened inside the circle, when you were exposed to the seeds?"

Dean didn't speak for a minute, until he finally sighed and nodded. "At first it was like everything went a little darker outside the circle. Then all I felt was darkness and destruction." Hesitating, he didn't know how to continue. Revealing anything about hell was out of the question. Telling Sam and Caleb years ago had been painful enough. No way was he having a bear-the-soul moment here witnessed by Raylan, Daniel, Adam and Onida. Talking about Jim was off the table as well. So how did he proceed? Trying to think of what would be relevant, he continued, "It was like giving in to your worst impulses, like you didn't have a choice." Swallowing hard, he continued, "Thinking about Sam, Caleb, you," he nodded to Joshua, "helped clear my mind some so I could focus."

"And when you touched a seed?" Joshua probed.

"It felt like an electrical storm inside my head. I couldn't concentrate. There was so much darkness but there were shafts of light too." Dean broke off, shaking his head. It was difficult to explain something so surreal.

"Did you feel like the light was fighting the darkness?" Sam asked.

Frowning, Dean thought back for a time, then shook his head. "No, not really. There were both just there being…" he fumbled for a minute, "light and dark. When I touched the seed, I didn't sense any great enlightenment or viciousness."

Caleb refrained from bringing up Dean slashing his leg to pieces, though he traded looks with Sam.

Joshua nodded. "Dark and light are always together. Their affect on us tempers our actions. The spell Piruz is doing must exacerbate those emotions."

"The spell has been activated," Onida reminded them. "When I saw the light intensify around the boxes and the wood getting warmer … those seeds are going to get out at some point."

Joshua nodded. He along with his Triad had seen the small seed sprout vines and leaves in a matter of seconds.

"Spreading chaos, yes," Sam said. "We're already seeing the results of mounting tensions in those cities as well as neighboring cities."

Dean grunted slightly as he pushed himself to his feet, favoring his painful leg. "Okay, we're going with Caleb's plan. Sam, Josh, Onida and Adam are going to figure out the Chaos spell and how to stop it. If the spell ends, that should shut down the boxes. Find out why there are cardinal points in the corners. It's there so it's got to be important."

"And you, me, Daniel and Raylan are going to pester the crap out of the witch," Caleb stated, also rising. "If we can slow him down enough, we may just cancel this spell."

Dean nodded and looked to Joshua. "Are your potion ingredients still in the tour bus?"

"Tourer," Caleb remarked under his breath.

"There on the side table," Joshua said, rising. "I'll get them organized and we can start assembling some spell pouches for you to use."

* * *

After Joshua, Sam, Onida and Adam were firmly ensconced around the conference room table, working, the others got their gear ready and headed out to search the clubs. Though Caleb hadn't been happy with the decision, he'd paired Dean with Daniel and himself with Raylan. That enabled each hunter to be paired with one of the Triad - along with their Triad gifts - in case they came up against Piruz, which was the intention, after all. Like in Huntsville, they'd broken up the territory into two sections, with Dean and Daniel working the downtown hub, and Caleb and Raylan covering the clubs along the outer rim of the downtown area.

Dean and Daniel had already driven to nine clubs and were now walking along West Hargett Street in the downtown entertainment section of Raleigh. There were several clubs along this street, so instead of trying to park at the curb near each, the pair decided to walk. Dean's leg was aching more now as he wasn't sitting. But the pain helped remind him that he wanted to be a better man than the one who'd hurt so many in hell. In both pockets of his jacket he had bottles of water, and Joshua made them a potion that would prevent Piruz from burying a box around the clubs. Dean knew Piruz would bury one somewhere, but he wanted to make it as tough as possible.

Daniel touched his arm and pointed down an alley. Looking up, Dean saw they were at Neptune's Parlour. Nodding, he watched Daniel toss a small amount of potion in the air.

"No sign of magic," Daniel stated under his breath.

"Then let's finish," Dean said. He pulled out a largish bag of sand-like ingredients and walked down the alley, dribbling the powder along the side of the building, past the rear windows and door, then up the far side till he was on the sidewalk again. Together they walked to Capital 16 Club next door and repeated the process, this time with Daniel walking the building.

_That will not work, child…_

Dean sighed. He hatred it when Piruz spoke at them through the air. "Yeah?" he mumbled. "Well come and stop me."

"What?" Daniel said, coming up beside Dean as they headed for the next club.

Dean waved a hand by his ear, saying, "Piruz wants us to stop what we're doing."

Snorting loudly, Daniel glanced around and remarked, "Like _that's_ gonna happen."

Dean grinned as they approached a bar called Coglin's. Pulling out his cell, he texted Caleb and let him and Raylan know Piruz was aware of what they were doing. When he finished, he said to Daniel, "Instead of a lookout on the street, we should stick together. I'd rather not get caught with our pants down."

Daniel nodded. Once they passed into the shadows of the building and alley, he pulled his gun and palmed a spell packet.

Sprinkling Joshua's potion along the sides of the building again, Dean kept his eyes peeled for the witch. No one came. They finished and headed for the next club. After they'd hit London Bridge Pub, The Raleigh Times, Watts & Wards Speakeasy and the Architect Club - where Dean had to stop and take a picture to show Caleb - they turned down South Blount Street to walk the Pour House Music Hall before turning to head back to the car. Dean was limping heavily by this time.

When they finished walking the building, Daniel said, "Stay here." Pointing to the crowded club, he continued, "There's plenty of cover and I'll go get the car."

Dean immediately shook his head. "You're not walking out there on your own."

Daniel pointed to the dozens of people milling around on the sidewalks though it was almost midnight. "Town's hopping. This guy isn't going to start something in the middle of a crowded street. He's been laying all his boxes pretty under the radar. We're only parked a block away. I'll be back inside ten minutes."

Dean sighed. "Damn it."

"Ten minutes. And get inside where there are plenty of people. I'll text you when I pull up," Daniel said, and he started walking quickly down the street, dodging through the swarm of drinking, laughing, and selfie-taking people.

Dean huffed out a breath and limped into the building. The music was deafening. The Pour House was a split venue with two bars; one in the pool room, the other housed in the Music Hall, complete with a stage for live performances. The music side was long and somewhat narrow, with stools at the bar but other than that, standing or dancing only. Along the brick wall opposite the bar was a narrow, rickety metal staircase leading up to a mezzanine walkway. Jostled by dozens of gyrating bodies, Dean limped to the bar and sat on the only seat available.

"Want something, bud?"

A dark-haired man with a mustache so narrow it looked painted on, leaned over the bar, smiling.

He was taking up a barstool, so Dean said, "Beer."

"Type?"

"Whatever's on tap."

"Got thirty-two on tap," the man said, his smile widening into a grin.

"Then make it a good one."

The man laughed and walked away. He returned a few minutes later with a chilled glass of medium-bodied beer with mild foam. "Narragansett Lager from Rhode Island," he said. "You're going to love it." He stood there with his brows raised, waiting for Dean's feedback.

Dean hadn't planned on drinking the beer. He was on the job and had only ordered it so he could sit on the stool. But now, it didn't look like he had a choice. He put a ten dollar bill on the counter, lifted the glass and took a gulp. Swallowing, he said, "Wow, smooth."

"It's one of my favorites." Sticking out a hand, the guy said, "Gaeland."

Dean blinked. "You're kidding."

The man threw his head back and laughed heartily, drawing the attention of several people milling around near the bar. "Nope, my parents had poor sense in picking names. I've thought about changing it hundreds of times, but I just keep putting it off. Now I fear it's too late."

"You like the novelty," Dean remarked. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

Someone called out for a refill, and Gaeland looked around. "Gotta get back to it," he said. "Enjoy your beer."

Dean watched him walk off and looked down at his watch, surprised to see that only six minutes had passed. There was no text from Daniel, so he took another small sip of the delicious beer. At least waiting for a ride in a bar had some perks.

"Join you, may I?"

Dean choked and looked up … and up at Piruz, standing at his side. Crap, the man was tall. It was different seeing him up close rather than across a field or several yards away behind a building. Where had he come from, anyway? Joshua's magic tracking potion had showed no magic in the area. He couldn't _believe_ he was out here where he knew the witch would be planting boxes, and the guy walks right up. Caleb was going to put _him_ in boot camp like his father had after a screw up years ago. Nodding, he looked around, but before he could say anything the man sitting next to him suddenly got up and moved away into the crowd, leaving his friend staring after him, open-mouthed.

Gaeland walked up and Dean said, "Another," inclining his head to Piruz.

Smiling, Gaeland nodded, picked up a glass and flipped it lightly in his hand as he walked to the long wall of beer taps.

"Stop … your action," Piruz said, obviously finding English a difficult language, as most people did when learning it.

"I can't," Dean said softly.

Piruz looked aggravated as he sighed. "Quare?"

Dean frowned. Growing up, his father had always told him to keep his cards close to the vest. Did he want Piruz to know he understood Latin? Figuring that at this point it didn't much matter, he took a few moments to form the words and word order before he spoke. Latin sentence structure was different than English, and he hadn't lied to Sam; he was rusty. Reciting spells and code words was different from having a conversation. "Omins anima habeat valorem," he said slowly. _(Every life has value.)_

Head cocked to the side in perplexity, Piruz said, "Non omnis vita sit ponderanda." _(Not all life is valued.)_

"No," Dean said finally. "It's not. But that's not my call to make." When Piruz looked confused, he thought a moment, then translated, "Sed quod suus 'non voctionem." His cell vibrated in his pocket, indicating that Daniel was waiting outside.

Piruz watched Dean closely before asking, "Et cui?" _(Then who's?)_

"God."

Piruz's eyes widened, and then he laughed. "Deus? Deus abiecit de vita hominis." _(God threw man down.)_

"Yeah, He did." And considering some of the crap mankind pulled, Dean couldn't say he blamed Him.

Eyes narrowed, Piruz hissed, "Ego ibi erat. Deus cum hominibus submerserunt."

Frowning, trying to translate the words in his head, Dean finally shook his head and said, "What?"

"Ego," Piruz pointed at himself, "there, in water. Deus occidere … murder familia. Deus murder mater mea, pater, fratribus et sororibus, nos servi; omnibus amicis nostris. Deus murder all." _(God murdered my mother, father, brothers and sisters, our servants and all our friends. God murdered all)_

Dean stared for a long time, his mouth slightly open in surprise. In water? Had this man just said he'd been there, had lived through the flood; as in _Noah's_ flood? How was that possible? His pocket vibrated again. There were no words for such grief. Instead, he formed the only words he could offer before saying softly, "Id est humani generis nu cupla." _(That is not humanity's fault.)_

Piruz looked like he'd been slapped. He stared at Dean as though he were examining an intriguing specimen under a microscope. Finally he rose stiffly and said, "Voluntas hominis sit bona. Quid faciam Deo non poterat." _(Man will be good. I will do what God could not.)_ Almost faster than good be seen, Piruz lifted his hand and shoved power at Dean.

Dean reacted instinctively and slammed his booted foot against the bar. His barstool flipped backward, knocking him into the man behind and sending them both crashing sideways onto the floor. It wasn't pretty or elegant, but the energy blast missed and hit the bar. Scrambling back, he eyed Piruz, who nodded and said, "Ita sit. Unus bellator descendit hac nocte." _(So be it. One warrior down on this night.) _

Gaeland darted out from behind the bar. But by the time he got to Dean's side, Piruz was gone.

"Are you all right, man?" Gaeland exclaimed, helping Dean to stand, and reaching behind Dean to help up the other man.

Dean turned around too and apologized, saying the next round was on him.

Gaeland looked shaken. "Who was that man?"

Dean looked to the door and saw Daniel trying to muscle through the confused and jostling crowd. "No one good," he murmured.

* * *

Caleb and Raylan had started at the outer rim of their territory at a club called the Capital Cabaret before heading inward. They'd already covered five clubs when they pulled up a couple blocks down from TJ's Night Club. Climbing out, they headed from the alley near the club.

"You think Daniels's truck will be all right?" Raylan asked, eyeing the crowd. This was definitely a seedier area of Raleigh. He had already seen three drug buys and they'd only gone a block.

Caleb smiled, sending a psychic _cop's are coming_ thought to two of the dealers, causing them to scurry away. "It'll be fine. We'll only be here a few minutes." They were driving Daniel's truck because Dean had refused to let Caleb drive the Impala, declaring that he needed his Baby by his side.

In the shadow of the alley, Raylan pulled a packet of powder from his pocket and tossed the dust in the air. Nothing. "He's not here."

Caleb nodded, pulling his own bag from his pocket. He started pouring it along the foundation of the building. Suddenly his psychic bat signal, as Dean would have said, went off. Whipping around, he saw Raylan on the ground, unconscious and Piruz standing there smiling. So much for the witch not being here. He must have been cloaked. Caleb reinforced his titanium blocks.

"Oportet prohibere," Piruz said gently. _(You must stop.)_

"Quisque non licet interfiecere," Caleb replied. _(You do not have the right to execute everyone.)_

Piruz shook his head patiently. "Non omnis, puer. Tantum reus." _(Not everyone, child. Only the guilty.)_

"Nullae innocentem. Non unum." _(There are none innocent, not even you.)_ Caleb felt his heart pounding rapidly. What was Piruz after? He knew they wouldn't allow the wholesale slaughter of millions of people. Why was he even trying to talk to them?

Piruz cocked his head to the side as he watched Caleb. Suddenly his eyes widened slightly. "Daemonium."

Caleb threw the potion packet he'd palmed at Piruz while reaching out psychically. Touching the man's mind was like touching the sea; vast, expansive and teeming with slipperiness and slime.

_Exite, dimidium daemonium. Nihil enim mihi est hic._ _(Go away, half breed. There is nothing for you here.)_

Caleb grimaced as the words pounded around his head, not in his mind, per say, but echoing in his ears just the same. Growling, he put power into his words and sent back, _Revertere ubi tu pertinent._ _(Go back to where you belong.)_

"Et ubi est illud?" Piruz said with a smirk. _(And where is that?)_

"Inferos," Caleb growled, pulling the Dragon's Talon from his belt and brandishing it like a sword.

Piruz's face lost all expression as he stared at Caleb, though his eyes spit fire and anger. "Ostende aliquo respectu, puri. Et non sumus pares. Tu nihil nec attentionem ceterorum turbat." _(Show me respect, boy. We are not equals. You are not but a distraction.)_

"I'm okay with that," Caleb hissed, and tossed another spell bag at Piruz.

Piruz countered, and then Caleb was under a full-scale assault with potions and spells hurled his way. His Dragon's Talon rose to the occasion magnificently, blocking every single one. Allowing the Blade control, he tried to figure out a new plan. This standoff with a spell-hurling witch needed a conclusion, and he needed to get to Raylan. How to make that happen, however, remained elusive. It was just then he felt a presence behind him. Spinning around, he just had time to mostly dodge a spell bag thrown by a young girl with white eyes. Instead of hitting him square in the back, it glanced off his shoulder to splatter on the wall. But the contact was enough to have Caleb stumbling back. He was near enough to the back corner of the building, and he ducked around the side.

He had only seconds to assess the rear of the club. The only cover was an industrial trash bin in the corner of the lot. It's effectiveness as shelter was dubious, as Piruz could simply throw power at it and squash him like a bug between the bin and the fence. But as the only shelter available, he ran toward it, his mind on fire and body screaming in pain. Whatever spell Piruz's puppet had used on him was having an effect.

Feeling Piruz behind him, Caleb pivoted, tossing two more potion bags at the witch while blocking another three with the Talon. But his movements were slow and it was becoming more difficult to keep his eyes open. He slipped behind the trash bin. The ground was covered in bottles of every kind from beer bottles to vodka and whiskey; a testament to partying. Suddenly, he had an idea. He sent out a psychic all points; _Party behind the club! Party behind the club!_

"Sero nunc, puer. Merlinus callidus est, eligens dimidium genus." _(Too late now, child. Merlin was clever, choosing a half breed.)_

"Et adhuc plus homnies quan tibi," Caleb snarled. _(And still more human than you.)_ Leaning out from behind the bin, he hurled his last three packets, his aim true. All three hit the witch center mass just as the back door to the club banged open and dozens of partiers spilled out.

"Where's the party?" someone called, followed by laughter.

"Someone's already sloshed," another yelled, as Piruz stumbled under the power of Caleb's spell pouches and fell.

"Then give him a drink, dude!" Raucous laughter followed that suggestion.

Piruz waved a hand and half a dozen people fell back against the others, sending a dozen tumbling to the ground.

Cries of _watch it_, _what the hell?_ and _get off me_, filled the rear yard of the Cabaret.

When Caleb peeked out from behind the trash bin, Piruz was gone. Pain had encircled his entire body and he pulled himself to his feet while gritting his teeth. He needed help badly. Stepping out from behind the bin, he walked gingerly toward the crowd with the intention of getting to Raylan. He bumped and dodged his way through the confused partiers, who were either scrambling off the ground or attempting to continue their partying, and made it to the corner before he dropped to his knees.

Someone noticed. "Hey buddy, you okay?"

Caleb pointed down the alley and said, "Help."

The man looked around. "Don't see no one else here."

Blackness was covering his vision, Caleb pointed again and said, "Raylan," then he yelled psychically, _Sam!_ before losing consciousness.

* * *

Sam tried to call Dean again as he trotted down the wide hallways of Duke Raleigh Hospital, Onida and Joshua on his heels. Adam had dropped them off at the emergency room entrance and was now circling the lot for a parking space. Rushing the nurse's station, he said, "Caleb Reaves? He was brought into emergency tonight."

The nurse said, "Just a moment…" as her fingers continued to fly across the computer keyboard. Finally, she said, "What's the name?"

Joshua ground his teeth and repeated what Sam had already said; "Caleb Reaves; R. E. A. V. E. S."

The nurse began typing again. "He's being evaluated in our trauma unit. You'll need to wait out here. The doctor will come for you when he's finished."

"Can you let me know his condition?" Onida asked.

Returning her eyes to her screen, the nurse said, "There are no notes on his chart as yet." Pointing to several chairs in the large waiting room, she said, "Have a seat, and we'll get you when we know something."

"What about Raylan Tanner?" Sam asked.

The nurse began typing again. "Uh, that's the man that came in with Mr. Reaves. He's been treated and is in stable condition."

"Can we see him?" Joshua asked anxiously. He hoped Raylan could give them some news on what happened.

"As soon as he's assigned a room. I'll let you know."

Sam looked as though he was about to lean over the desk and strangle the woman when Joshua pulled him away.

"Let's wait over here," Joshua murmured, tugging Sam gently.

Onida remained standing near the desk, looking lost. This was her worst nightmare. She'd lost Marius when she was twenty-four; she couldn't lose Caleb. She couldn't.

Joshua took her arm and led her over to where Sam was standing. "He's going to be all right," he said. "I know Caleb. Nothing is going to happen to him."

Onida gave the other man a shaky smile. "You sure?"

"Positive," Joshua said. "Come on, let's take a seat." Turning to Sam, he said, "Have you been able to get hold of Dean yet?"

Sam shook his head. Holding up his ring hand, he said, "He should be coming, though." While not burning, his ring was warm on his finger. Pulling out his cell, he tried to ring his brother once more. When the call went to voice mail again, he simply hung up.

Having parked the Tourer, Adam skidded into the emergency waiting area. Looking around, he spotted the other three and hurried over, asking Joshua for an update.

Instead of listening in to Joshua and Adam, Sam turned and regarded the double doors leading in to the treatment bays. Slowly he walked over and stared through the windows. He was tired of waiting, and abruptly walked inside.

"Sam," Joshua hissed, glancing around at the nurse's station. However, none of the personnel seemed to have realized that Sam had gone into the treatment rooms. Deciding not to call attention to his absence, he ushered Adam over to where Onida was sitting. They sat for a further twenty minutes before the treatment room doors opened again and Sam walked out accompanied by a doctor.

"Thank you," Sam said sincerely. "I apologize again, but I was worried. I just needed to see him. Thank you for being so kind."

"Just try not to let your anxiety take you into parts of the hospital where you shouldn't be. I'll return to take you to him."

Sam nodded and went over to sit beside Joshua and Onida. When the doctor retreated back through the doors, he said, "Caleb's stable for now, but his body is in shock and they're saying his brain waves are erratic."

"I can help with that," Onida stated urgently

"I know," Sam said softly. "Unfortunately, we'll need to wait until he's assigned a room." Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled out a soiled shirt and thrust it at Joshua. "There's something on the left shoulder that looks like a potion. I'm hoping you can figure out what it is, and maybe help both him and Raylan."

Two cops exited through the double doors from the trauma bay, surveyed the waiting room for a moment before approaching Sam, Joshua, Adam and Onida.

The officer on the left nodded. "I'm Officer Morgan. Do you know anything about what happened here?"

"We don't," Sam stated anxiously. Dealing with curious cops was routine for hunters, and though he was worried, he was a pro at putting the right amount of anxiety and concern into his voice.

"Can you tell us anything?" Joshua asked, using what Dean and Caleb always called his public relations voice.

"All we know is we got a call about two men and one woman found unconscious in an alley outside TJ's Night Club. There was no smell of alcohol on the bodies of the men, though the woman appeared to have been drinking. Both men had IDs, the woman did not. Do you know her?" The officer showed a picture of a blond girl who looked like she was asleep, except for the extreme pallor of her skin.

Joshua and Sam gave the picture their due diligence, though they knew the girl hadn't been with Raylan or Caleb. Shaking his head, Joshua said, "No, I've never seen her before."

Sam shook his head, and the officer held it up for Onida and Adam, who both shook their heads.

"Can we go in?" Onida asked anxiously.

The Officer's eyes softened. "The doctor will call as soon as you're able to see them." The two officers nodded and walked away.

Sam rose and pulled out his cell. Stepping a couple feet away, he sent Dean another text, adding Daniel this time. Giving an exasperated sigh, he walked to the trauma door windows and looked through.

"It shouldn't be too much longer," Joshua said, coming up alongside the younger man. "Can you sense him?"

Sam nodded. "Sort of. But it's like trying to capture air; I can't get a hold of anything."

Onida stood, as though sitting was just to much for her now. "That's what happened before with both of you." Biting her lip, she murmured, "I need to get to him."

Sam's cell rang and he answered. "Hello? … Where are you? … Are you all right? … Yeah, that's where we are. … Okay, see you soon."

"What?" Onida and Joshua said at the same time.

"Dean and Daniel are on their way. Dean's cell got cracked in an altercation with Piruz. They were on their way back to the hotel, but now they're coming here." He glanced at Joshua. "Seems like your power-seeking potion didn't work, or Piruz countered it with some sort of cloaking."

Joshua shook his head. "I should have thought of that and made a much more subtle potion." He looked disgusted with himself. "Damn it."

The uncharacteristic curse, mild though it had been, showed more than anything how worried Joshua was for Caleb. "He's going to be okay," Sam said. "Better as soon as Onida can get in there with her magic hands."

"We'll remake the spell, make it richer," Adam stated.

Joshua nodded to Adam, "Thank you." To Onida, he said, "I'm sorry I wasn't as thorough as I should have been."

"He'll be fine," Onida stated, giving the older man a quick hug. "I just need to get to him."

"Yes," Joshua whispered. "I just … hate this."

Sam nodded and murmured, "Yeah, me too."

They milled around a bit before, one by one, finding their way into the seats. Fifteen minutes later Dean and Daniel burst through the emergency room doors, Dean heading straight for the nurse's station.

"Caleb Reaves," Dean said, "How is he?"

"We don't know anything yet…."

"Find out!" Dean stated aggressively.

The nurse looked surprised, then just as it appeared she was about to give Dean a piece of her mind, Sam hurried over and pulled Dean away.

"We're waiting over here," Sam said, throwing an apologetic smile in the nurse's direction.

"How is he?" Dean asked, "Can you sense him?"

"Come on over here," Sam said.

Dean dug in his heels, demanding, "Spill it."

Sam sighed. Dean got like this when anyone he loved was hurt. "We don't know anything yet. We know he and Raylan are stable, but that's it. I can sense him, but I can't get his thoughts or emotions; it's like trying to hold water in a sieve. Onida said that was like what happened after David Lassiter came to the farm. We're just waiting till we can get in and she can heal him."

Dean's shoulders slumped and he nodded. Looking up, he saw Daniel over sitting beside Onida and Adam. He'd forgotten the other man was there, damn it.

"Come on," Sam said, giving Dean's arm a tug. "You're bleeding."

"What?" Dean grunted as he looked down at his leg. He had bled clean through his jeans, which were now a darkish red. "Damn it," he said again, though this time out loud, and he limped toward the chairs.

Dean had only just gotten seated when the double doors opened and a doctor walked out. "Family for Caleb Reaves and Raylan Tanner?"

They all rose and hurried over.

The doctor eyed them all before saying, "I'm Doctor Wallace. I've been treating your friends, and I have to admit I'm quite baffled. Both of their vital signs were unstable, irregular, blood pressure bottomed out, difficulty breathing, and their brain patterns were highly irregular; Mr. Reaves much more so than Mr. Tanner. We've stabilizing their vitals and administered Lobastatin to help regulate brain function. They're being moved to a room now, and I hope they'll be awake soon."

"Will they be in the same room?" Joshua asked.

Doctor Wallace nodded. "We thought that was best. You don't know the young lady?"

"No," Joshua said. "We didn't recognize her. I hope she's all right."

"She has symptoms of a mild concussion without having a concussion." Wallace shook his head. "Very peculiar." After a moment, he continued, "I'll have a nurse come get you when they're settled."

"Thank you, Doctor," Joshua said.

It was another half an hour before they were led to a room on the third floor. Onida ran over to Caleb with Joshua just behind.

"Wait awhile," Joshua cautioned. "You can't just heal him directly after the doctors have worked on him."

"Why not?" Onida demanded, a hand on Caleb's cheek. His face was pale, his breathing shallow, and he was unnaturally still. She wanted to help him now.

Dean walked over and leaned down. "Damien, if you can hear me, enough of the Princess routine. It's time to wake up."

Sam and Joshua chuckled slightly, and Dean ran a hand over Caleb's head. Then Dean turned and went to Raylan. His arm was bound in a sling, and there was a bandage around his head to stymie the blood flow from the contusion on his forehead.

Sam walked to the end of the bed and looked at Raylan's chart. "He's got a fractured clavicle and a fairly deep laceration on his forehead."

Dean nodded.

Joshua went and grabbed a chair for Onida, then one for himself and they sat down beside Caleb's bed. Adam leaned against the wall while Daniel dropped down on the end of Raylan's bed. Dean limped to a chair near the television and lowered himself gingerly into the seat. There was a fourth chair, but Sam ignored it, feeling the need to stand and move.

"What happened tonight?" Sam asked Dean.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that myself," Daniel said. "I was outside getting the car."

Sam wanted to yell at Daniel for leaving Dean alone, but figured the man had seen Dean's leg and decided to let the Guardian rest while he fetched the car.

Dean told them about what Piruz said and what he claimed.

Joshua's eyes were as wide as everyone else's when he said, "He was there for the flood? How is that possible?"

"I don't know, but he said his family was killed. Said he was going to do what God couldn't, and make a world where good people could live."

Joshua and Sam merely stared until Daniel softly quoted, "'There is no one righteous, not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one.'"

Everyone looked at him and he smiled. "The book of Romans in the New Testament." Shrugging slightly, he explained, "I'm from Argentina. My whole family is Roman Catholic."

Sam and Joshua smiled.

"The thing is," Dean continued, "God wiped out mankind because they were wicked. Piruz blames God for killing everyone, including his family. What he doesn't see is that he's doing the exact same thing he accuses God of doing. Kill everyone wicked, get rid of the bad people, then all the good people will live together." He shook his head. "No one alive is capable of making that decision, no matter your personal loses."

A groan had everyone turning to the men on the beds. Raylan's eyes fluttered open on a moan.

Dean rose quickly. "Raylan, are you in there, man?"

Raylan grunted slightly and opened his eyes slowly. It took a moment, but he finally focused on Dean. Frowning, he whispered, "Where's Caleb?"

Dean stepped aside so that Raylan could see Caleb in the next bed.

"How is he?"

"He's doing fine, as are you." Dean looked over at Onida, who came reluctantly over to Raylan's bed. She didn't want to use her energy on anyone but Caleb. "Can you check his brain, see if the same spiraling you saw in Caleb and Sam is happening to him?"

Nodding, Onida held a hand over Raylan's head for a moment, then stepped back. "Yes, the same erratic firing of neurons, the same jumble of chaotic cells."

"It's a result of Piruz's spell," Joshua stated. "The big spell, not the one he used on you tonight."

Raylan frowned. "I feel fine."

"You've been given a drug to help regulate brain function," Sam said. "That's probably helping the misfiring neurons."

"Am I going to be all right?" Raylan asked, a thread of fear in his voice.

Sam suddenly whirled on Joshua. "Do you remember those protection pouches you made for Dean and JT last year? Can you make something similar for us now, to protect us from the spell until we can stop it? A Chaos Spell neutralizer, maybe?"

Joshua nodded slowly. Looking to Adam, he said, "I think we can make that happen."

Adam stood and said, "I'll head back to the hotel and get started. You stay here with Caleb."

"I'll go with you," Daniel said, standing. "I can help with the research or at least gather and measure the ingredients for the potions."

Sam stood irresolute. There was so much they still needed to find out about the box, about the spell and the witch so they could end this. Potions needed to be found that would be effective against a witch of Piruz's power. Joshua would take care of the bulk of the potion making, but the research on shutting down the spell was his responsibility. He should go and help at the hotel, but he wanted to stay with Caleb.

"You can't do anything here, Sammy," Dean said gently. "Why don't you head back, put that big brain of yours to work on protecting us all, Caleb included. Besides, it's not going to be long before visiting hours are over and we'll get kicked out anyway. In fact, I'm surprised…"

At that moment the hospital door opened. The night nurse walked in, then froze when she saw all the people crowded into the room. "What's going on here? Visiting hours were over an hour ago."

Joshua stood with a sigh. "We're leaving." He looked over at Dean. "But I expect a call immediately when he's awake."

Dean nodded. "Done."

The four men left, weaving their way around the nurse, who stepped forward and said, "And you are?"

"I'm his brother," he pointed to Caleb, "and his cousin," he pointed to Raylan. "This is Caleb's wife." He patted Onida's shoulder. "We're not leaving."

Raylan smiled, then gave the nurse an affirming nod when she looked in his direction.

"Fine," the nurse huffed. "But don't get in the way." Working quickly, she checked both men's charts and adjusted their medications. To Raylan, she said, "The doctor ordered a mild tranquilizer to help you sleep tonight."

When Raylan started to object, Dean cut in. "Take the tranquilizer. Caleb's going to be out too, and we can't do anything until morning anyway. Might as well get a relaxing sleep."

Sighing, Raylan nodded. Soon he was asleep and the nurse had left the room.

Dean and Onida sat beside Caleb's bed, Onida was wringing her hands slowly. "When can I heal him?"

"Closer to morning," Dean said. "It won't look as suspicious."

Onida nodded and slouched back in her chair. Eyeing Dean's leg, she said, "You should let me heal that while we're waiting."

Dean smiled and shook his head. "I'm good."

"You're not _good_," Onida stressed. "Your jeans are a bloody mess and you're in pain."

"Pain isn't a bad thing," Dean said philosophically. "It teaches us to duck faster, move quicker, zig next time instead of zag."

Onida chuckled softly.

"Pain can be a powerful teacher," Dean murmured softly. "It reminds us that while this is a dangerous gig, people are saved by what we do. The pain reminds me that I'm alive; that while I may hurt right now, I'll also heal." Healing was an amazing gift, he'd learned. In hell, there had been no healing, only pain and agony and decay. Giving Onida a quick glance, he continued, "You have an amazing gift; the ability to heal others."

"A gift you choose not to use," Onida said, her feelings hurt slightly.

Realizing he'd given offense, Dean shifted to face this woman whom his best friend had finally allowed into his life. "Please don't be upset. For me…" his face flushed slightly as he struggled to make Onida understand. He would never undervalue her gift, but he couldn't undervalue the pain he could now feel either. At least not right now, so soon after reliving his despicable actions in Hell. Yet the situation was one he couldn't explain, had attempted it only once in his life. "I would use your gifts when they're necessary to keep on fighting, but I don't want to become reliant on them. I need to be able to fight whether I'm in pain or not." Shaking his head, he finished, "I know you don't understand, but know that I value you more than I can say, for what you do for Caleb; for what you bring to our family."

Onida nodded slowly. "I don't understand, not fully. Just know that healing is there for you when you need and want it." Giving him a mock glare, she added, "But know also that if your stubbornness is putting you or Caleb, Sam or Joshua at risk, I will heal you whether you want it or not. Deal?"

Dean chuckled, nodding. "Fair enough."

* * *

Piruz slapped his leather case onto the bed and dropped heavily into a side chair at The King's Daughter Inn. Huffing softly, he ignored the aches in his body and took in the opulent room. Who would have thought that odd Piruz, who dyed cloth for a living, would eventually stay in such a grand place?

Shifting slightly, he grunted as a burn along his torso and side pulled. These men of Merlin's choosing were most aggravating. They simply would not see reason. He was making the world better by eliminating the wicked, just as had the God-With-No-Name. But he would not eliminate everyone; no, he would save those who were good at heart. Had Merlin's chosen always been this stubborn? It had taken centuries to devise this plan, centuries in which his heart had writhed with the desire for vengeance. Bettering the God-With-No-Name had become his mantra; he would show how to create a desirable world without killing all living beings. And the instrument of his vengeance would be the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

He had discovered the existence of the Tree in the vast Library at Alexandria. For decades he had poured over the massive accumulation of knowledge there, often cloaking himself and spending entire nights absorbing the wisdom of generations. The tale he'd discovered read that the God-With-No-Name had forbidden the first man from eating of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, yet man had done it regardless. Therefore the man and his issue had been banned from the garden where they lived, and were cut off from the Tree that would give Knowledge as well as Life. Though he theorized the tale to be a parable highlighting the rise of violence in the world, he yet believed the Tree existed. Often parables held seeds of truth, and myths were often woven around magical objects. Yes, this Tree that dispensed Knowledge of Good and Evil without filter would be his weapon. But where to find it?

The Alexandrian quest for knowledge of the tree's location was cut short when the Library and all its riches were destroyed in a vast fire that had killed thousands. His own escape from the flames had been made through his portal directly in front of the Master Record's Keeper and his wide-eyed Assistant, armed with only one scroll that described in detail the Tree and its unique qualities. When he returned, there was nothing left, and he'd needed to seek the knowledge he wanted elsewhere. That _elsewhere_ had been the expansive Library at Pompeii.

More decades were spent searching until he'd finally found a reference to the Tree's location in an old scroll from the Land of Goshen. Delighted, time was a causality to his translating the text and checking cartographs for the location. He'd nearly finished when his time in Pompeii ended abruptly: Mount Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD. The devastation had been so quick and absolute, he had barely managed to escape into his alternate home. Again, upon his return, Pompeii was no more. He could almost believe the God-With-No-Name was determined the knowledge of the Tree remain hidden. But found it he had. And to his amazement, his refuge from the flood, the volcanos and the fires had been in the place the scroll from Goshen had called Eden.

Of course, finding the carefully cloaked Tree within the vast Garden was not an easy task. Time flowed by as he fought to find the Tree. Finally, he broke through the Tree's protections to the place in the Garden where it flourished. While those fortifications had been daunting, even more problematic was taking the Tree anywhere. He would magically sever a limb, but the limb would simply reattach itself to the mother Tree. After much practice, he'd finally managed to open a stable door to the real world near the Tree, sever a limb and take it through. Once the window had closed and the branch couldn't get back to the Tree, it would grow where he set it.

Yet still, the newly grown Tree refused to be tamed. Two massive outbreaks of violence had occurred before he was able to create a strong enough protection circle around the trunk, thus curtailing the Tree's influence. Once the power of the Tree was contained, he was ready to search for a method to control and dispense the influence of the Tree. Time seemed to have no bulwark as he worked on finding that harness. Finally, he succeeded: The Chaos Spell. The intricacies of the spell were shrouded in mystery, and Piruz needed a teacher. Fortunately, he had heard rumors of a talented Mage with a power and skill unparalleled in history. He wanted to meet this man.

**.**

_7__th__ Century AD_

A heavy knock sounded on the door of a solid but simple home in the village of Tintagel spread out below Castle Tintagel. The door opened and an older man with white hair and piercing blue eyes stood in the entryway. Regarding the stranger he'd seen periodically around the village and castle grounds, Merlin nodded his head in greeting and said, "Beannachdan. Cò thusa?" _(Greetings. Who art thou?)_

Frowning at the odd language, Piruz asked, "Latina?" He had watched the noted Mage for longer than the Sorcerer knew. Not only from afar, but more recently from the woods and caves surrounding the small village. He knew the man was more talented than any he'd known in Petra. What he didn't understand was why, as an Advisor to Kings, he would choose to live in such a humble abode.

Merlin studied the man in an unobtrusive manner, one he'd learned long ago when dealing with Arthur. The man now at his door was a study in contradictions; unnaturally tall with a young, unlined skin but with the white hair of age. He felt ancient. Nodding, he said, "Quod sic."

Piruz sighed in relief. "Piruz zadeh Vahid," he introduced himself.

Merlin nodded. "Myrddin Emrys."

Before Piruz could continue, a man stepped up behind the Mage. He was tall and broadly built, with strong arms and shoulders. His craggy features were weathered with age and care. However, the eyes beneath his russet mane were intensely blue and sharp as they regarded the stranger warily. "Myrddin, a bheil thu gu math?" _(Merlin, thou art well?)_

Merlin turned slightly and murmured, "Tha e gu math. Bidh sinn a 'còmhradh a-mhàin. _(It is well. We converse only.)_

After a moment, the man gave a sharp nod and disappeared back inside. This had been one of three men Piruz had seen work with Merlin in various situations, both in the village, at the castle and in the surrounding countryside.

Merlin gestured to a bench outside his home. "Sedete?" _(Will you sit?)_

Piruz nodded and sat gingerly on the rough hewn bench.

"Quid tu hic?" Merlin asked. _(Why are you here?)_

"Tu us doctrina. Volo discere." _(You are learned. I wish to learn.)_

"Iam magna arte." _(You already have great skill.)_

Piruz's eyes widened. He was absolutely certain he had remained hidden from Merlin and his followers.

Merlin smiled. "Ego te vidi in silva." _(I have seen you in the forest.)_

"O videns?" _(Seer?)_

"Sumus." _(We are.)_

Piruz frowned, then abruptly turned and looked over his shoulder to see a slight man with long, wild black hair and dark solemn eyes watching him through the window. Thin slates of horn that usually shuttered those inside from the elements were opened slightly so the man inside could watch. Eyes darting back to Merlin, he confirmed, "O videns?"

Merlin inclined his head.

Piruz merely nodded. Leaning back against the small home, he watched as villagers went about their daily business. This place was so much more primitive than the place in which he'd grown up. But he hadn't come here to find a home; he'd come to speak with the most gifted Mage to have ever existed … aside from himself, of course. He had a problem that needed solving. Thus, he spoke to Merlin of where he'd come from and of his desire to rid the world of evil but save the good, something the God-With-No-Name had ignored when he had destroyed all living things.

"Vos crede Deo poenas graviter bonum?" Merlin asked. _(You believe God severely punished the good?)_

"Et ego operor." _(I do.)_

Merlin nodded slowly. "Et Noah quid?" _(Then why Noah?)_

Piruz blinked. In all the years that had passed since the flood, he'd completely forgotten that Noah and his family had lived. Of course they had. Who else would have repopulated the world?

Merlin gave the other man a solemn smile. "Centum et viginti annorum Noe aedificare arcam. Quare ?" _(For one hundred and twenty years Noah built the ark. Why?)_

Piruz frowned.

"Cur tam diu?" Merlin asked. _(Why so long?)_

"Nescio." _(I do not know.)_

"Moneo ut pœnitet," Merlin said. "In omnem terram, unum hominem iustus. Erat Dei admonitio. Nemo audiebat." _(He warned man to repent. All over, one man was just. He was God's warning. None listened.)_

Piruz felt anger course through him. Yes, they had all laughed as Noah had built his boat in the midst of the desert. They had thought him a madman! Who would not? Even Petra used a vast system of cisterns and viaducts to capture and use the little rain that fell. It was insanity to believe the earth would be flooded … until it wasn't.

Merlin's expression was one of compassion and steel. He knew what Piruz was thinking.

Forcing aside his feelings on the flood and God, he spoke to the Mage of that which he desired. "Peto convocabor quia magos educavi." _(I ask for training.)_

"De?" _(About?)_

"Illud chaos Cantatio." _(The Chaos Spell.)_

Merlin nodded contemplatively. The Chaos Spell was not unknown to him. He had kept an eye on Berthot for some time and was prepared to intervene should the Sorcerer use his creation to harm others. Once Chaos was unleashed, it was very difficult to control or subdue. Frowning, he considered the man at his side. The appearance of the stranger in the forests of Tintagel had not gone unnoticed by him. He knew the foreigner had thought he'd been covert, hadn't realized his cloaking attempts were seen by Merlin and Ralf, the later of whom had seen the witch soon after Merlin himself. In the dark of night, Ralf had had a vision of people wandering in confusion and attacking one another. Concerned and frightened, he'd come to Merlin saying the stranger's heart was a black and vengeful place.

Finally speaking, Merlin asked, "Quare?" _(Why?)_

Contemplating which answer that would get him what he wanted, Piruz finally said, "Discere." _(To learn.)_

Merlin studied Piruz for so long, he could sense the discomfort radiating from the other man. Standing slowly, he said, "Reversus cras." _(Come back tomorrow.)_

Piruz wanted to argue, but he had been the one watching for several weeks and months. He supposed he could wait another day. Standing, he gave the Mage a small bow of respect and repeated, "Cras." _(Tomorrow.)_

Merlin inclined his head and watched the other man walk away briefly before stepping back into his home and to the three men waiting therein. "Dè do bheachd?" _(What think you?)_

"Olc." _(Evil)_

"Ralf," Merlin admonished lightly, turning to the slight, black-haired man who was regarding him intently.

"Chunnaic thu a chridhe. Tha e dubh le fearg." _(Thou hath seen his heart. Black it tis with anger.)_

"A bheil thu a 'creidsinn nach bu chòir dhuinn cuideachadh?" _(Dost thou believe we should nay render aid?)_

Ralf sighed. "Tha a chridhe cloiche. Chan eil sgàineadh fosgailte airson dòchas no tròcair. _(His heart is stone. No crack remains open to hope nay mercy.)_

"Mar sin nach bu chòir ar cuideachadh a thoirt seachad?" _(So our help should not be tendered?)_

"Cha bu chòir dhuinn.," said a voice of the richest baritone. _(We should not.)_

Merlin turned to a man standing in the shadows. "Chan eil?" _(No?)_

Tall with the build of a jouster, Geoffrey eyed his mentor and friend. His hazel eyes were filled with compassion and iron, his handsome features offset by close-cropped reddish hair. "Tha dìoghaltas air a chridhe a thionndadh. Chan eil e a 'smaoineachadh air mòran, ach air an fhear. E fhèin." _(Revenge has twisted his heart. He thinks not of the many, but of the one._ _Himself.)_

The man who'd checked on Merlin at the door of the small house stepped forward, his stubbled chin set. "Tha Geoffrey ceart, tha e a 'smaoineachadh air bàs chan ann air beatha." _(Geoffrey is right; death be his aim, nay life.)_

Merlin sighed. "Tha, William, tha fios agam. Ach feuchaidh mi ri inntinn a shoilleireachadh." _(Yay, William, I know. Yet will I attempt to enlighten his mind.)_

William's thick shoulders squared, a look of stubbornness on his face. "Chan eil an cùrsa seo glic." _(This course is unwise.)_

Merlin chuckled and patted the man's shoulder as he passed by, on his way to get a cup of tea. "Mo Ridire uasal. Mura faic cuid eile am math, feumaidh sinn sealltainn dhaibh." _(My noble Knight. When others see not the good, we must show them.)_

William watched Merlin for a brief moment, then sighed and nodded. Picking up his blade and a cleaning cloth, he said, "Ged a dh 'fheuchas tu ri a threòrachadh, gidheadh ullaichidh mi airson leasan gun fàilteachadh." _(Though you seek to guide him, I yet prepare for an unwelcome lesson.)_

Geoffrey and Ralf watched their friend walk out the front door. Turning back to Merlin, Ralf murmured, "Chunnaic mi a chridhe. Chan èist e." _(I have seen his heart. He will not listen.)_

"Chan eil, cha dean," Merlin agreed sorrowfully. "Gidheadh feuchaidh mi." _(No, he will not. Yet will I try.)_

And try, Ralf knew, his mentor would; he would have done the same. Nodding, he lifted his coat from the rack by the door, inclined his head to Geoffrey and followed William from the house.

Geoffrey didn't immediately follow his friends. Instead, he studied Merlin and knew there was something more his mentor had yet to say. "Dè a tha a 'cur dragh ort?" _(What troubles you?)_

Merlin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he filled his cup; half with tea and half with mead. After a few bracing sips, he said, "Cha soirbhich leis an amas. _(His quest will not succeed.)_

"An uairsin carson a tha dragh ort?" _(Then why dost thou worry?)_

Eyes staring intently into his half empty tureen, Merlin whispered, "Tha dragh orm airson an latha a bhios e." _(I worry for the day it will.)_

**.**

_The Next Afternoon: a defining argument…_

"Et mori in bono usque ad illud chaos." Merlin argued. "Sicut Cainus occiderit Abelem, sic aliis malo ingenio observabuntur ex bono et occidere." _(The good will die in Chaos. Just as Cain killed his brother Abel, so others of evil intent will kill the good.)_

"Milicie Templi militibus bonorum. Innocentes et custodiat te." _(The Knights are the Warriors of good. They will protect the innocent.)_

"Etiam in Equitibus, in inundatio mali a bonis non superesse. Caedes esset magnificum." _(Even with Knights, against a flood of evil the good would not survive. The casualties would be vast.)_

"Cum satis equestri bonum maneres." _(With enough Knights, good would survive.)_

"Videtur ad sumptus." Merlin insisted. _(Consider the cost.)_

"Quidam non morietur. Etiam, quod Deus non est attentus. Deus delevit ex omnibus." _(There would be costs, yet even the God-With-No-Name did not mind the cost. He wiped out every living soul.)_

"Quod iustus tenuit," Merlin insisted. _(The righteous survived.)_

Piruz felt his face heating up as his anger rose. "Quis est Deus, qui vivit et decernere moritur?" _(Who is He to decide who lives and who dies?)_

"Eligit lutum figuli facere." _(The Potter chooses what He does with the clay.)_

Jumping to his feet, fists clenched at his side, he roared, "Ita formatur sumus ad Dei voluntatem?" _(So we are shaped at this God's whim?)_

Merlin stood as well, his body relaxed but his face intent and watchful. "Quod est voluntatis Dei, ita ? Deus est super omnia. Si Deus non creavit hominem." _(That is a God's will, yes? God is above all. We would not be had God not created man.)_

Standing, Piruz eyed the Mage for a long time. He knew the three Knights were within the small house, waiting if they were needed. They were exactly the balance he would need in his plan. Men like them and many, many more. "Vos mos non auxilium." _(You will not help.)_

"Non possum." _(I cannot.)_

Anger and vast disappointment coursed through his body. Without a conscious thought, he had raised his hand and hurled a spell at the old Mage.

Hand raised slightly, Merlin merely feathered his fingers and the spell Piruz had thrown was gone.

Taking up the challenge, Piruz tossed after spell after spell, all of which Merlin dispelled with ease. Finally, he halted, his breathing elevated. "Ubi magicae artem discere?" _(Where did you learn the art of magic?)_

"Ex parte Dei." _(From the hand of God.)_

Stiffening, Piruz knew there would be no learning from this Mage. Bowing slightly, he turned without another word and walked away. He would find the man who created the Chaos Spell, this Berthot from Netherese. It would be better to learn from the originator rather than the student.

Geoffrey, William and Ralf stepped over the threshold of Merlin's door and watched the wizard disappear through the village.

"Dè a bhios e?" Geoffrey asked softly. _(What will he become?)_

Ralf saw the man far longer than the others save Merlin, and he could see the rage and darkness in his heart and mind. "Trioblaid." _(Trouble.)_

"Dhuinne?" William asked. _(For us?)_

"Airson ginealach eile," Merlin replied. _(For another generation.)_ Pondering the last couple days and the dangerous man he'd met, he turned and eyed the three he'd chosen as the foundation for protecting the future. "Thig, leanamaid ar leasanan. Bidh na ginealaichean ri teachd a 'togail air an eòlas seo." _(Come, let us continue our lessons. Future generations will build upon this knowledge.) _

**.**

_The Present…_

Frustrated, Piruz pushed himself painfully up from the bed and went to his bag to unload the herbs he would use for healing. While he had the ability to heal from within using his own energy, he usually aided the process with specially prepared herbs and spices to conserve his strength.

Pain radiated from his shoulder as he shrugged out of his jacket and peeled his shirt away from his body. The robes worn in his youth had been easier to remove, especially when one was injured, he thought as his trousers slid to the carpeted floor. A dark red stain covered his shoulder, chest and side; and a large mottled deep red and purple bruise marred his thigh. Both wounds still oozed blood and liquid. Using one hand, he fished in his bag for a clean bandage, a wonderful asset in this age. After cleaning and bandaging his wounds, he relaxed onto the pristine bed and sighed.

While he had centuries of practice making potions and spells, the witch that created the potions Merlin's Warriors had used this night and prior were impressive. The Knight had gotten close, caused him harm. That was on him; he'd been too arrogant. His extensive experience, his confidence in his own expertise had led to his underestimating Merlin's Warrior's and their witch's abilities. But he would correct his approach. Though admittedly talented, the young witch was no match for him; his skill was unparalleled. These would be the last injuries he would sustain in this matchup. As for Merlin's Children, they would one day thank him for all he achieved. At that time, he would either choose the path of forgiveness, or send them to their graves for having had to audacity to oppose him.

* * *

Sam, Daniel, Joshua and Adam sat around the conference table at the Homestead Suites by Hilton, trying to focus on work while their minds were at the hospital. Joshua was working on making protection pouches for the team, Daniel focused on spells that could be used to stop the witch, and Sam continued his work on the Tree. Adam had several bottles in front of him as he tried to breakdown the potion that had been used on Caleb. If it had stopped someone as powerful as the Knight, then maybe he could reverse engineer the formula and they could use it on the witch.

Joshua rubbed gingerly at his forehead as he forced himself to read through his book of notes and potions again. Concentration was difficult, as his mind kept returning to Caleb. Dean would call the moment Caleb wakened, and Onida would heal him. But it was concerning that the abnormalities in his brain continued to occur. He needed to focus on the protection pouches if he were to protect them all.

"Find anything?" Sam asked quietly.

Joshua shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not focusing very well."

Sam smiled. "I know. We're all…"

"Joshua," Adam interrupted urgently. "You need to call Dean, now!"

Joshua was on his feet, frowning. "What?"

Sam and Daniel both leaned forward, their expressions reflecting the urgency in Adam's tone.

"I've broken down the herbs and oils used in the mixture," Adam said hurriedly, running an agitated hand through his hair. "From what I can tell, it's a potion designed to break down the body's organs."

Sam was on his feet, his face white and his cell in his hand.

Joshua, however, had already hit Caleb's speed dial number on his phone. Though it was just after three in the morning, he knew the Guardian would answer Caleb's phone. The moment he did, Joshua said, "Don't wait any longer. Heal him, heal him right now."

Dean didn't question Joshua's order. He merely said, "Done," and hung up. Turing to Onida, he said, "Heal him, now."

Onida didn't need to be told twice. She'd felt the urgency as soon as Dean answered the cell. She was at Caleb's side in one step, her hands out and focusing all her abilities on healing his body.

Caleb had been sleeping there peacefully … and slowly dying. The monitors hadn't given away anything. "Food," she ordered as she focused on pouring energy into his body.

Dean was immediately on his feet and limping from the room. Outside he jogged down the empty hallways, slowing to walk only when a lone nurse passed by. Not finding a vending machine with anything other than coffee anywhere on the floor, he put on his most charming face and approached a nurse's station. "Is there an all night cafeteria?"

The nurse smiled. "No, Sir. Sorry."

Showing his disappointment, he said, "Damn. I haven't eaten since midday yesterday."

Appearing somewhat uncertain, the nurse finally said, "There's a lounge for doctors and nurses that offers fresh sandwiches in a vending machine. The food is changed daily, so you know you're not eating anything stale." She gave a covert look around, then pointed, "It's down that hallway on your left." Giving Dean a smile, she stage-whispered, "Don't get caught."

"Thank you," Dean said sincerely, and he walked quickly away. When he reached the door, he pushed it slowly open. An empty room greeted him, and he stepped inside. Pulling a credit card from his pocket, he purchased three sandwiches and a soda, then hurried back to Caleb.

Sweat beaded Onida's forehead as she focused on shoring up and healing Caleb's liver and kidneys. She'd already taken care of his heart, which was her first concern. Thankfully, the medicines the doctors had used had slowed the deterioration of Caleb's systems considerably. But she hated to consider what would have happened if they'd waited till just before dawn like they'd planned.

Dean reentered Caleb's room, his arms laden with food, which he tossed on the end of Raylan's bed just as Onida nearly collapsed onto the floor. Catching her, he said, "Pace yourself, damn it!" He lifted her into her chair.

"I … had to work fast," Onida huffed, slightly out of breath. "His organs were … almost shutting down."

Dean grabbed a sandwich and shoved it in her hand. His body had started to shake slightly with exhaustion, with pain, and with the knowledge that if they'd waited much longer, Caleb might not have survived. Damn it. He longed for the days when Dad, he or Sam would liberate themselves from the hospital as soon as they were free of nurses and doctors.

Onida wolfed the food down, then stood and held out her hands again. Dean waited anxiously until finally Onida sighed and sat down.

"He all right?"

Onida smiled and nodded. "He's fine. He should be waking up soon."

Dean shoved another sandwich into her hands before saying, "I hate to ask, but…"

"Can I heal your leg?" Onida said slyly, taking a bite.

"No," Dean chuckled softly "I know you checked Raylan earlier, but I would appreciate your taking a second look to make sure his organs aren't shutting down either."

"Oh. Yeah, I can do that." Onida took another bite of her cheese sandwich. "You know, this would have been better if it was warm."

"I'll make sure you get a warm one when we get out of here," Dean promised.

"Deal."

Rising, Dean said, "I'm going to call Sam and Joshua, the others, let them know Caleb is all right. That Raylan is all right."

Onida nodded and stuffed the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth as she watched Dean walk out of the room. Rising, she moved over to the bed in which Raylan was sleeping. Holding out her hands, she frowned and focused her energy. She was aware when Dean returned a few minutes later but kept her concentration on Raylan until she'd finished checking his organs and vital signs. Stepping back, she returned to her seat, taking the Danish Dean held out for her to eat. After a quick bite, she swallowed and said, "He's fine, his organs are fine. It appears that whatever potion the Sorcerer used on Caleb, he didn't use the same on Raylan."

"Good," Dean sighed, slumping slightly. He was exhausted, but there was no way he was leaving here until Caleb's eyes were open and he was talking.

Crumpling the plastic of her Danish, Onida tossed it in the trash. Slouching in her chair, she sighed.

Dean's eyes cut over to the woman at his side. "Climb up on the bed, get some sleep. I'll wake you the moment Caleb opens his eyes."

Onida shook her head. "I'm fine. He should be waking up soon. I'll sleep then."

Shrugging, Dean let himself slouch down further in his seat as he prepared to wait. _Come on, Damien. You've never kept me waiting before. I really need you to wake up._

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Re: Onida - (mid-page) Marius was introduced in The Guard Changed at Dawn. Onida married him at twenty-four, and he was killed four months later._


	17. Chapter 17

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 17

_(NOTE: There is a smattering of Medieval measures and verbiage in this chapter. The explanations are at the end if you're interested.)_

.

Caleb opened his eyes to white walls and a familiar beeping sound. "Damn it," he mumbled, a hospital. He didn't need to look far to see both Onida and Dean asleep in chairs near his bed, looking very uncomfortable. Smiling, he sent out a gentle psychic nudge, and Dean's eyes flew open.

"Hey," Dean murmured, his eyes going to Onida, who was still asleep. Leaning forward, he asked, "How do you feel?"

"Fine, good. I guess I'm thanking Onida for that?"

Dean smiled. "You are. You're going to need to take her on a huge shopping spree." After they had a short laugh, he sobered, saying, "You really scared her."

Caleb nodded, knowing Dean wasn't only talking about Onida. "Got a bit scared myself." Shifting slightly, he saw that Raylan was asleep in the next bed. "How's he doing?"

"Fine. He has a broken clavicle and a pretty nasty head wound. Onida checked him out, said she'd heal the clavicle and head laceration when you guys get back to the hotel." Eyeing Caleb, Dean asked, "What happened?"

Caleb told about meeting Piruz in the alley, then getting hit with the potion. "I could feel my body shutting down and I couldn't do anything about it. Luckily most of the potion hit the wall, or I wouldn't have made it to the hospital. There was this girl…" Suddenly anxious, he asked, "The girl. Is she all right?"

"She's okay," Dean assured him. "The doctor said she had the symptoms of a concussion without the concussion. Confused the hell out of him."

"I was fighting Piruz when I felt someone behind me. I was able to spin around in time to dodge most of the potion she threw." Shaking his head, Caleb said, "She was obviously under a spell; her eyes were white. Same thing happened with Daniel and Joel." Yawning, he looked around. "What time is it?"

"Almost six in the morning."

"How about we get out of here?"

Dean smiled. "Why don't we let the doctor do his thing, then sign out AMA if needed."

Caleb chuckled, then yawned again. "Yeah, don't you…"

"Miss the days when we just ran for it?" Dean finished. "Damien, you never ran. That was only me and Sam."

"I ran sometimes," Caleb insisted stubbornly.

Dean snorted. "Like Mac would have allowed that. No, you stayed until he was satisfied you were on the mend. It was Dad who viewed hospital stays as optional rather than a necessity."

Caleb eyed his best friend, remembering all the times Sam and especially Dean had needed to heal on the road or in some dump of a motel. "Yeah. I used to hate that."

"Me too," Dean agreed, especially when it came to Sam. "Now, I'm going for coffee while you talk with Onida. Then you can get another couple hours of sleep before we head back to the hotel."

"You should go back now; you both should," Caleb urged. "I'm fine, and I'll be getting some sleep here."

"We'll see," Dean murmured, leaning over and giving Onida's shoulder a gentle shake.

"She can be a sound sleeper when she's tired," Caleb commented with a smile.

Dean shook her shoulder again.

Eyes opening slowly, Onida frowned a moment, then suddenly jerked upright.

"I'm fine," Caleb called out reassuringly.

Dean walked out of the room, a smile on his face.

Onida rushed to Caleb's side and smiled, though her eyes were full of tears. "You scared me, you big jerk," she stated, slapping him on the shoulder before she climbed on top the bed and him.

Caleb ran a hand soothing over her back as she cried into his shoulder. "Hey, I'm all right, thanks to you. I'm all right." He kept on rubbing for a long time until she'd finally calmed down enough to slide off him and onto the mattress at his side.

"I was worried."

Nodding, Caleb murmured, "I know, and I'm sorry."

Onida nodded. "This is the first time we've been on a hunt where you've been hurt. I don't like it."

"I don't want to pretend this isn't a dangerous gig, but we usually don't come up against someone like Piruz. So our injuries are more along the lines of concussions, lacerations and bruises, maybe the occasional broken bone. Coming up against someone this skilled in using magic as a weapon," he shook his head. "We haven't done that in over thirty years."

"What happened?" Onida asked.

"Malachi Harris," Caleb said, and Onida nodded. When they met a year ago, he'd taken a page out of Dean's book and told her everything, all the dark things of his past, who he was related to, the darkness in his blood; everything except Dean being in hell. He felt that wasn't his story to tell. "At first he tried to ingratiate himself to us, but he really wanted to destroy us."

"Like this guy," Onida commented. "He keeps trying to get you on his side, when all he really wants is you out of the way."

Caleb was surprised by Onida's observation. He hadn't thought of Piruz trying to convince them his was a righteous cause in the same way. Nodding slowly, he said, "Yeah, it's similar."

Onida yawned, closing her eyes. "You'll beat him," she murmured, snuggling into his side. "You have right on your side."

Caleb hugged her close, smiling. He wished the situation was as simple as that. Instead, he always found that life was much more complicated.

Dean returned to Caleb and Raylan's room twenty minutes later to find Caleb and Onida asleep on the bed. Smiling, he backed out and walked slowly down the hallway. Fishing in his pockets, he pulled out his car keys and hoped he still had the key to his hotel room.

* * *

It was close to dawn when Sam set down his silver spoon and closed the small, draw-stringed potion satchel. "That's the last one." After Dean had called, Sam said they should head up for some sleep. Joshua, however, had wanted to get the protection spell pouches made as soon as possible.

Joshua placed the last protection potion he created atop the pile of twelve. He'd wanted to make protection potions for JT's Triad too. If they were called in to help, he didn't want to stop everything and make protection packets. All that needed to happen now, was to infuse the pouches with Triad magic and they'd be done.

Daniel and Adam had gone up to their rooms just after five in the morning. "You should go up to bed too," Sam said.

"I'll go up soon, but I won't sleep until Caleb comes back," Joshua said wearily.

Sam nodded. He felt the same. Yawning, he said, "So, the Chaos spell. What have you found?"

"I haven't had much time to research it, but it's a very old spell." Leaning over, Joshua slowly pulled a piece of paper toward him. He felt a little wooly-headed and knew he needed sleep badly. Sighing, he checked out the scribbled notes on the page before deciding he could use the paper. Flipping it over, he picked up a worn pencil. "This is a Chaos Spell." He drew a circle in the center of the piece of paper, then drew arrows spiraling from the center in all directions.

Sam frowned. "It looks like a bomb: an explosion in the center spiraling outward."

Joshua nodded. "So, the question is, how is this spell being modified by the circle of boxes around the country?"

Looking up, Sam asked, "What are your thoughts?"

"I'm not sure," Joshua said slowly. "Start at the beginning, I suppose; which is, how do circles act in spell work? They encompass, they protect whatever is inside the circle; they contain and keep what is inside from getting out. So what is Piruz doing? Since the spell is Chaos, the spell has a center focal point. As such, I would speculate the circle is to keep the spell from going beyond the boundary of Piruz's control."

Sam shook his head. "But I thought his idea was to makeover the world? Wouldn't you _want_ the Chaos Spell to cover the globe?"

"It all comes back to control," Joshua said. "Chaos is chaos. Uncontrolled, no one can contain it, and Piruz wants to rule." Looking up from the diagram, he continued, "The world is a much bigger place than when he lived here, either in his original time or during Merlin's. I don't know where he's been since then, maybe holed up in the mountains working on this spell and gathering the seeds, but the sheer size of the world needed breaking down. Someone said it a couple days ago; the United States is one of the most powerful nations in the world. So he takes down the US first and establishes control. Then he has the manpower to take down the most volatile area; the Middle East, where he was born. After that he goes for the world, one country or continent at a time."

"And the seeds…" Sam said slowly. "If the boxes contain the seeds of the Tree, wouldn't they extend the reach of the spell?"

"Possibly," Joshua mused, staring at the Chaos Spell. "But this spell is being constructed in an unusual manner."

Sam frowned. "How do you mean?"

Joshua scrubbed his face wearily. "Magic, like most everything in the world, follows certain ordinances and paradigms; there are rules that can't be broken. But magic is also an art form. Yes, the art must bend itself to the rules, but there is leeway for much creativity." He stared at the Chaos Spell, then at the diagram of the boxes circling the US, trying to figure out the spell from what they already knew.

Watching the older man puzzle through their notes, his eyes darting from paper to paper, Sam had that feeling of watching a Master at work. He knew Joshua was a powerful Crafter, but this was one of the rare times he got the treat of watching all that skill play out.

"The Center must be the Tree," Joshua murmured. "But seeds from the Tree are also in the boxes. Why? The Tree is powerful, the seeds are powerful. Would the offspring be able to contain the mother?" His eyes darted to the diagram of the box locations. "He's making a circle to contain the Tree itself, to bring it under his control. The Tree is the weapon, the Chaos Spell is the control."

"The Chaos Spell is a control?" Sam asked. "Isn't that counterproductive?"

"Not when you're trying to control something that is so much more powerful," Joshua said distractedly.

Sam felt like this whole situation was spiraling out of control. "How can one person contain something that powerful?"

"He isn't," Joshua said slowly. "He's using the Tree itself as a stopgap; the seeds, anyway." Sitting up straight, he continued, "But why put the seeds into cocobolo wood boxes? I'd say because the seeds wouldn't stay away from the Tree." Joshua waved a hand mimicking the seeds going back to their source. "So he infuses the cocobolo wood with his own magic enough to keep the seeds inside." Shaking his head, he murmured, "That must have taken a very long time. Cocobolo wood is not easily manipulated."

"So, if the seeds were free, you think they would go back to the Tree," Sam stated.

"I believe so. The Tree is too powerful. God would not let the seeds of such a Tree escape; wouldn't let the Knowledge contained within the fruit populate beyond His grasp. He would have made the Tree with stopgaps against such an eventuality." Joshua stared to the diagram of the country. "Piruz is creating a spell using a circle, but without a wand."

"How does not using a wand make a difference?" Sam asked.

"Using a wand puts the crafter in direct contact with the spell being formed. Piruz is using the boxes as the connection rather than himself, as one would do in a more contained spell." Breaking off again, Joshua thought through the situation. Typically, for a spell the size of the country, a sacrifice in blood would need to be made. But in this circumstance, would Piruz need to use a sacrifice? If the boxes were the conduits and all were connected, was there a component of this spell he was missing? Suddenly Joshua began shuffling through his rubbings of the box lids and placed them side by side on the table. "North, south, east, west," he murmured.

Sam sat watching as Joshua worked out the spell.

Finally, Joshua smiled and sat back. "Clever, very clever."

Though Sam felt like screaming, _Out with it!_ or strangling Joshua, he tried to be patient. "Something?"

Nodding, Joshua said, "When drawing a spell circle, the wand is the conduit for the Crafter's magic; his power. Piruz can't use his wand to draw a circle around the entire country, but he still needs a conduit for his power. He's infused the boxes with his magic; they're his conduit rather than a wand. The seeds within the boxes give the circle increased power, the power of the Tree itself." Leaning forward, his eyes on the diagrams and the Chaos Spell, he continued, "Once all the boxes are placed, he'll go to the center. There he'll release his control on the Tree and channel the power to the cardinal points," he ran a finger up the paper due north, then to the east west and lastly, south. "Once the cardinal points of the Spell are activated with the power of the Tree, they'll spiral out, connecting all the other boxes forming a circle around the country. The power of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil will fill the United States with mayhem and chaos."

Neither man spoke for several minutes as they contemplated the enormity of the spell and the power of its caster.

Finally, Sam said, "So, he won't be sealing the last box with a sacrifice in New York."

Joshua shook his head. "He doesn't need to. The center is where his power lies."

Sam pulled his computer over and started typing while saying, "The coven that went missing was in the Midwest. What do you bet they live near the very center of the United States…" after a final tap, he sat back and continued, "which is two miles northwest of Lebanon, Kansas."

"That's where we'll find our Chaos Tree."

* * *

_834 AD_

Merlin stared out the front door of a modest inn in the Frankish Empire. They had been traveling for several days, the nearby hills their destination. Though his mind was alert and determined, his body was tired from the exhaustive journey. But he would do what needed to be done. They would be at their destination within the day. A night of rest, and he would need to confront the powerful Sorcerer he'd met years before. In truth, he hadn't thought this encounter would happen. It wasn't that he had underestimated the Sorcerer, he'd merely considered the knowledge he sought well hidden: he had seen to that himself. Berthot was violent, unstable and slightly mad, and the spell he had created was dangerous. It must have taken Piruz years to track him through the maze of misdirection Merlin had lain. Resourceful and powerful, the time had come when he needed to be stopped.

The first dream had come to him a month prior. Blood running down the mountains, forming rivers of red in the foothills. Screams of terror and pain had accompanied the horror, mind-numbing in their intensity. The garnet streams had run until the whole of the country had been covered in a blackish ruby, and he knew; knew that Piruz had found Berthot and would activate the Chaos Spell. Ralf, his young Scholar, had shown up at his door near dawn, his face whiter than the snows in winter, shock chasing his voice away. It had taken a healing draft and a flagon of stiff mead before the young man could tell Merlin about the sea of bodies, severed limbs and staring eyes. Merlin had been astonished at the depth of Ralf's vision, which proved to be much gorier than his own.

"Cruinnich na càch," Merlin had said. "Bidh sinn a 'fàgail taobh a-staigh uair a-thìde." _(Gather the others. We leave within the hour.)_

Ralf had drained the last bit of his mead before standing and giving Merlin a nod.

They had set out across the Kingdom of England and crossed the North Sea into the Frankish Empire. As they neared the border between the Saxonia and Austria territories, Merlin could feel the rise in power. The unsettled magic had even troubled his sleep, though the roadside inn where they'd taken shelter the night before was meager at best.

"Tha e faisg." _(He is near.)_

Merlin smiled. "Chan e fiosaiche a th 'annad, Geoffrey." _(You are nay a Seer, Geoffrey.)_

"Chan eil mi a 'faicinn le mo cheann," Geoffrey said softly, his eyes on the hills Merlin had been regarding moments before. "Ach tha mi a 'faicinn le mo chridhe." _(I don't see with my eyes, but with my heart.)_

Surprised, Merlin turned to view the tall, gentile man at his side. His idea to create a consortium of men and women to fight creatures and Sorcerers in the world had begun years before with an attempt to find a leader, a guardian, one who would lead the fight. He'd searched for a man with the mind of a Scholar, the prowess of a Warrior, and the heart of a Lion. Instead of finding one man with all these qualities, he ended up with three, a Triad who would support one another through thick and thin.

He'd found William Loganach while on a mission to aid the small Scots kingdom in their territorial battle with the Northumbrians that determined the eastern border of Scotland at the River Tweed. The Scottish Knight had been magnificent, fighting with the strength of a bear and the prowess of a panther. He had defended his King, Malcolm son of Cyneth, saving him from several near deaths, while advancing his Scots troops to the border and holding it. To this day the border remained in Scots hands.

Finding his Scholar had been fairly easy. Seers were uncommon and viewed by the communities with caution. Much mysticism, superstition and caution surrounded one with their gifts. Ralf Hrafnkell was of Norman decent who had lost his parents in one of the many battles between the Northumbrians and the Kingdom of Ireland. When no one could be found to care for the strange child, he was dropped at the monastery of Clonmacnoise Cluain Mhic Nóis, where he studied literature, languages, religion, mathematics, sciences and botany. Finding him may have been easy, but prying him from the place he'd called home for ten years was not. Meaning "Meadow of the Sons of Nós" and founded in 544 BC, the monastery had been a place of peace for the teenaged Ralf. It had taken much conversation and convincing before the young man had agreed to leave with the mage.

It had taken a further six years of seeking before Merlin found the one with the heart and drive to lead his Triad and fighters. He hadn't needed to go very far at all, having found him in his own backyard: Geoffrey Pierrepont. The tall, lean young man was from a wealthy family, one with ties to the peerage. Merlin had a chance encounter with him at his Knighting. The man wore nobility like a second skin and fought like a lion for the good of King and Kingdom. He was humble, stubborn, selfless and fearless. He was the perfect fit to be the first leader of his Triad.

Pulling his mind back to the present, Merlin asked, "Dè tha thu a 'ciallachadh, nad chridhe?" _(What do you mean, in thy heart?)_

Geoffrey did not take his eyes from the horizon when he spoke. "Chan eil mi cinnteach ciamar a mhìnicheas mi," he shrugged lightly. "Is e dìreach rud a tha fios agam, agus bu chòir dhomh èisteachd ris na rudan as aithne dhomh." _(I am unsure how to explain. Tis merely a thing I know, and I should listen to things I simply know.)_

Nodding slowly, Merlin smiled. "Bu chòir, bu chòir dhut èisteachd ri do chridhe." _(Yes, you should listen to your heart.)_

A scuffling at the door had both men stepping aside so that the large man just inside could emerge. William Loganach adjusted the enormous pack on his shoulders. The Scotsman's body was strewn with many weapons including two narrow scramasaxes, various knives and a wooden shield. Suspended by a leather thong circling his body was a massive ax, and he carried a heavy, long broadsword passed down through his family for five generations.

Geoffrey took in the assortment of weapons and smiled. They would be of no use against a Sorcerer the like they were seeking. Yet he knew William felt better being armed than not, so he would not chide him.

Merlin merely nodded. "Ralf?"

"A 'tighinn," William huffed, shifting his massive shoulders. _(Coming.) _"Bu chòir dhuinn a 'chrìoch a ruighinn le tuiteam na h-oidhche." _(We should reach the border by the fall of night.)_

Merlin stepped from the small uneven wood step of the Inn and into the yard. "Gabhaidh sinn fois mus gluais sinn air a 'chrìch gu far a bheil an Sorcerer a' feitheamh." _(We will rest before we move along the border to where the Sorcerer is waiting.)_

"Tha fios aige gu bheil sinn a 'tighinn?" William asked. _(He knows we're coming?)_

"Tha e a 'feitheamh ri ar ruighinn," Ralf said quietly as he stepped from the house. "Tha e a 'miannachadh fianaisean gu a mhòrachd." _(He awaits our arrival. He desires witnesses to his greatness.)_

"Chan fhaic e gun tàinig sinn," Merlin stated calmly. "Tha sinn còmhdaichte." _(He will not witness our arrival. We are cloaked.)_

Ralf turned to face Merlin. "Eadhon bhuaithe?" _(Even from him?)_

"Is dòcha gu bheil e sean," Merlin stated, his eyes twinkling. "Ach tha mi nas fheàrr." _(Old he may be, yet I am better.)_

William snorted out a laugh. Even the somber Ralf smiled.

"Na fuirich sinn air eagal 's gum bi e air a chumail a' feitheamh," Geoffrey declared, _(Let us not dally lest he be kept waiting) _moving across the yard to the wagon standing by. Climbing atop his horse, he waited until William was mounted, and Merlin and Ralf were ensconced in the wagon box before they set off.

**.**

_Early the next morning…_

Merlin, Geoffrey, William and Ralf stood sheltered by a cluster of tall Oak trees. In the distance they could see a very tall man standing beneath a magnificent tree. Though they were watching from slightly more than a furlong's distance, each was spellbound by the height and beauty of the tree, each limb of which exploded with a plethora of brilliant green leaves.

"Tha e eireachdail," Geoffrey murmured. _(It is magnificent.)_

"Bòidhchead uamhasach," whispered Ralf. _(Terrible beauty.)_ His face was completely white as he stared. Images of death, blood and sorrow had woven through his dreams like ghostly shadows.

"Uamhasach, gu dearbh," _(Terrible indeed)_ William stated, his eyes not on the tree, but what lay beneath it. "Coimhead gu h-ìosal." _(Harken below.)_

Geoffrey and Ralf squinted down at the base of the tree. Several lumps were scattered around the roots of the tree.

"Dè a tha na laighe an sin?" _(What lies there?) _Geoffrey asked, frowning as he stared.

"Na mairbh," came Ralf's sober reply. _(The dead.)_ "Nach urrainn dhut a bhith a 'faireachdainn an ùpraid san adhar? Bidh e a 'lùbadh mar chleòc na banshee. _(Can you not feel the chaos in the air? It bends like the banshee's cloak.)_

William touched a pouch dangling from a leather thong at his neck. "Tha sinn air ar dìon." _(We are protected.)_

"Merlin?"

The mage turned to Geoffrey, meeting the eyes of the man whose heart was bigger than anyone he'd ever known. "Dè a chanas tu?" _(What say you?)_

Jaw tightening under Merlin's searching gaze, Geoffrey gave a sharp nod. "Ma tha feum air a dhèanamh, leig leis a dhèanamh gu sgiobalta." _(If needs be done, let it be done quickly.)_

Merlin nodded. Stepping back from the three men he trusted more than anyone else, he said, "Thèid mi an toiseach. Geoffrey, lasaidh tu na teintean." He indicated several bundles of twigs and leaves bound together in burlap cloth. "Cruthaichidh a 'cheò troimh-chèile agus còmhdach. Còmhdaichidh Uilleam Geoffrey fhad 's a bhios e a' lasadh nam pasganan, an uairsin còmhdaichidh Geoffrey agus Uilleam Ralf fhad 's a bhios e a' breith a 'chearcall litreachaidh. Faigh nas urrainn de dhaoine taobh a-muigh a 'chearcaill."

_(I will go forth first. Geoffrey, you will ignite the fires. __[He indicated several bundles of twigs and leaves bound together in burlap cloth.__] The smoke will create confusion and mask our movements. William will shield Geoffrey as he ignites the bundles, upon which Geoffrey and William will safeguard Ralf as he lays the spell. Usher as many people outside the circle as possible.)_

"Agus an Sorcerer?" asked William. _(And the Sorcerer?)_

"Coinnichidh sinn aghaidh ri aghaidh agus is mise a bhuannaicheas," Merlin stated, his expression fierce and uncompromising. _(He and I will meet face to face, and I will be the victor.)_

None of the three questioned whether Merlin would be able to handle the Sorcerer. If Merlin could not handle the Sorcerer, no one could.

William looked to Geoffrey, then pointed down at the valley in which the Sorcerer stood. The Tree grew up in a sparsely populated growth area at the base of a steep incline. While there was cover, the slope was so sharp, it would be impossible to navigate the terrain without dislodging rocks and earth. Several rods on the north side of the Tree was a treacherous cliff of stunted trees, bushes and brush that ended near a length of the Danube River. Piruz had chosen a place for his Tree that was near impossible to approach with stealth, yet stood within a day's walk of three small villages; two in Saxonia and one in Cologne near the Austria border.

Geoffrey studied the hill side, the cliff and the valley where the Sorcerer was striding around the Tree. Turing to William, he pointed the Ralf, then to a narrow trail barely visible three rods up from the valley floor.

William nodded. "Tha sinn a 'teàrnadh le Merlin." _(We descend with Merlin.)_

"Aontaichte." _(Agreed.)_

"Nos pervenit," Merlin murmured under his breath, letting his spell cloaking drop a fraction and infusing the words with his magic. He wanted Piruz focused on him and not on the task his three companions would soon undertake. _(We have arrived.) _

Just then a wave of power rushed up the hillside and collided with their bodies with all the intensity of a tornado. Ralf moaned and dropped to his knees. Geoffrey staggered but was kept from falling by William gripping his elbow. Merlin turned to where Piruz stood and saw dozens of people fighting and tangling with one another. A couple figures attempted to escape up the hill, but were ruthlessly drug down by others.

Kneeling down beside Ralf, Merlin touched the young man's temples, allowing his magic to heighten the spell pouch's cover while enhancing Ralf's natural abilities.

"Tapadh leat," breathed Ralf, using Geoffrey's hand to regain his footing. _(My thanks.)_

"Dèanamaid ar seasamh," Merlin stated. _(Let us make our stand.)_

Ralf stayed in the shelter of the Oak trees while Merlin, Geoffrey and William made their way through the forested area down into the ravine. When Merlin stepped past the densest portion of the trees and became fully visible to Piruz, the Sorcerer stepped back from the flailing bodies and smiled.

"Denique amicus." _(Finally, my friend.)_

"Amici?" Merlin said easily. "Quid factum est quia nobis facti sunt amici?" _(Friends? What have we done to become friends?)_

Piruz shrugged in nonchalance. "Et nos sumus denuntiat, et potentes sumus; Sumus multum idem." _(We are both Conjurers, we are both powerful; we are much the same.)_

"Tu respice in praeteritum, non in futurum credo. Vos ne desideres de chao, ego vis pacem. Vos volo chao; Credo in pace. Nisi in casu, amici simus. Sed salva amicitia tam diversa obiecta." _(You look to the past, I believe in the future. You want Chaos while I trust in peace. If such were not the case, we might enjoy camaraderie. But a friendship cannot survive such diverse dynamics.)_

Piruz glowered. "Volo defendat innocentes." _(I also seek to protect the innocent.)_

Merlin gestured to the vicious battle and the dead bodies lying around the base of the Tree. "Et quod non conplebo sermones tuos." _(The evidence does not support your words.)_

"Bonum tibi superesse!" Piruz claimed aggressively. "Non omnes, non; sed multi. Tu non vides!?" _(The good will survive! Not all, no; but many. Can you not see!?)_

"Gratum esse nemo damnum." _(No loss is acceptable.)_

Piruz stared at the mage, then nodded. "Et sic fiat," _(So be it)_ and he threw out a pulse of power that would have knocked Merlin back fifty feet if he hadn't been prepared. A wave of his hand had the power flowing down into the ground. Piruz threw a second, stronger spell, and Merlin deflected it so that it rushed over the cliffside, knocking several trees from their precarious slope-side perch.

William and Geoffrey ran to those battling beneath the Tree and attempted to separate the fighters. Sensing the stronger foe, the villagers didn't run as would most whose skill in fighting was of dubious worth. Instead, they immediately attacked. William dispatched the first combatant with a clout on the head from his family's broadsword. Geoffrey spun another around and kicked him into the villager standing behind him, thus setting both men to tangling with one another.

Piruz stepped sideways toward the cliffs and hurled a spell at Merlin, one that crackled and burned hot in the air. Merlin marshalled the slight breeze into a whirl which caught the arid bolt of power and diverted it toward the Tree. The spell snapped and hissed along the Tree's massive limbs, but did not scorch the bark nor burn even one perfect leaf. Pulling at his inner strength, Merlin flicked a lance of power toward Piruz, that wrapped itself around the Sorcerer's ankles, binding them together.

Piruz tilted and nearly dropped to his knees, but was able to counter the spell without falling. Smiling, he said, "Fas est ut discat unum," as he hurled another spell of fire and burning sparks at Merlin. _(I must learn that one.)_

Merlin held up both hands, and a silver shield appeared between them, effectively blocking the spells intended to harm him, causing them to return on their original trajectory. Piruz was forced to dodge his own spells, diving to the side as the energy set a nearby bush aflame. More smoke filled the sparsely treed area.

With their backs to the Tree, Geoffrey and William were engaged in wild hand to hand combat; Geoffrey with two combatants, William against three. They needed to keep their wits about them, for not only were those they were fighting completely irrational and erratic, still more were attempting to get around the aggressors to get in on the action. It was a massive mess of flailing arms, kicking feet and shouting faces.

William grumped, "Tha seo coltach ri cait sabaid." _(Tis akin to fighting cats.)_

Geoffrey barked out a laugh as he swung his sword, knocking aside a man ready to lob a rock at his head. "Cait cunnartach." _(Dangerous cats.)_

"Dùin do shùilean," Ralf called. _(Close your eyes.)_

William glanced at Geoffrey, who shrugged. Both men quickly knocked away any immediate aggressors and backed against the Tree, closing their eyes just as flickers of intense white light burst all around them. When they opened their eyes a moment later, echoes of the winking lights still danced before their retinas. Most of the villagers, however, were stumbling about, momentarily blinded by the magic. Immediately the two were able to render several men and a few women unconscious. While they weren't able to bind their arms and legs, they could now do more than fend off numerous limbs or weapons and work to effectively subdue the remainder of the Sorcerer's victims.

Growling, Piruz climbed out from behind the large bush where he'd taken shelter from the fiery spire and began hurling spells at the mage in earnest, throwing one after the other in quick secession.

Merlin was impressed with the Sorcerer's power and the scope of his creativity. However, he quickly realized that the raw talent the other man showed had not been cultivated and tempered by a trained Master. His skill was wasted on an abandon of ill-placed strikes when half the power and a smarter aim would have done wonders. His strategy was aimed more at overwhelming his opponent with his power and speed. Piruz had vast talent but not a tremendous amount of skill, power but no finesse. Therefore, Merlin tempered his engagement technique. Rather than trade spells, he focused on putting up a pretense of response while allowing the other man to drain his strength. He could sense Ralf making the spell circle, and he knew William and Geoffrey had the rabble-rousers nearly subdued. Soon he would need to make his move.

Ralf had started creating the circle on the east side behind the Sorcerer, then moved south away from the man behind the Tree and closer to the hillside. Now he was on the western side of the Tree where Merlin fought. He been precise in his creation of the spell, using the herbs Merlin had mixed and the incantation he had helped create. Working methodically, he hadn't paid much attention to the fighters other than the spell of lights, trusting in Geoffrey and William's protection. As he worked past where Merlin fought, he knew he would be completing the circle in direct view of the Sorcerer. Glancing up, he waited a moment before he caught Geoffrey's eye.

Geoffrey acknowledge the gesture and tapped William on the shoulder lightly before moving over to where Ralf was working. He got there just in time, as one of the rabble-rousers had a dead branch lifted over his head ready to strike the young Seer. Geoffrey swung his sword up, where it connected with the dead branch, shattering it into kindling and preventing the blow from connecting with Ralf's back.

Ralf nodded his thanks and continued on with the last arc of the circle. He tightened his grip on the cypress wand in his sweaty, grimy hand, a wand that had been created by Merlin and blessed by his old Monastic Order in County Offaly, Ireland. A curl of sorrow whispered through him at the thought of his home for ten years. He had loved living and studying at Clonmacnoise Cluain Mhic Nóis. It had been a place of refuge for him when he'd lost his parents and not one family in his village would welcome him into their homes.

His visions had started when he was three years old. Many had been terrifying for him as a child. He would awake screaming and crying, unable to fully express what he had seen. As he grew, he was more able to elucidate the dreams for his parents and the local priest, but the villagers were suspicious of his predictions, especially when several came true; a freak hurricane, heavy rain that flooded the fields, a famine. He'd been seven when his parents died, and the local priest brought him to the Monastery. The monks had welcomed him with open arms, though the Abbott had encouraged him to not give voice to his dreams. Even monks dedicated to honor God and all His gifts could be suspicious of prophetic visions.

A whistling over his head brought him quickly back from his revere and he ducked slightly as Geoffrey swung his sword again, knocking an assailant across his chest with the blunt side of his sword. A small smile quirked his lips as he refocused his attention on finishing the circle. While he missed those monastic days, this new life also brought new learning and interesting adventures.

Geoffrey swung his blade again, grunting with the effort. Sweat ran down his face near his eyes, causing his vision to blur slightly. An annoying buzzing had started inside his head little more than a punct before. Only his training in battle, a training that had started when he was seven years old, kept him from loosing focus. He knew it was the chaos of the Tree making itself felt in his body. For the first time ever he thanked the Lord Almighty he had spent a lifetime honing his skills, because now when he needed it most, they were second nature. William, he was sure, would be thinking the exact same thing.

Merlin stepped back, deflecting another two spells. Marshaling his energy, he pulled in the might of the wind and the moisture around him and shoved a bolt of pure natural power at the Sorcerer. The power of the column swallowed the energy of Piruz's spells, doubling its own power and force. It thundered across the distance between the two men and slammed into Piruz, knocking him back several feet.

Dazed, Piruz blinked open his eyes to see a dappled blue sky through a sea of leaves. He shook his head to clear his confusion, frowning. A scant second before he had been on his feet dueling with the mage. Now he was on the forested floor staring up at trees. The last spell; it had absorbed his own. Gingerly he climbed to his feet, his face set with poorly concealed irritation. "Bonum dolum," he growled. _(Good trick.)_

"Bonum magicae," Merlin countered. _(Good magic.)_

Anger whooshed through Piruz like a brush fire. Gathering his strength into a duel force of earth magic and flame, he murmured an incantation under his breath and hurled the spell, not at Merlin, but at Merlin's two comrades who were fighting near the Tree.

Merlin responded immediately. Reaching out to the Tree, he touched on the strength there and found it willing. Siphoning power from an overhead branch, he thought, _Dia Uile-chumhachdach nach fhacas agus a tha an-còmhnaidh an làthair, beannaich do sheirbhiseach_. _(Almighty God unseen and always present, bless your servant.) _Touching the nearest branch with his magic, Merlin syphoned off divine power, pulling ancient magic from the Tree. Then, throwing his arms open wide, he released his magic and power into the sparsely vegetative area.

The ground tore itself up sending earth and dirt, leaves and branches flying in all directions. The scattered trees, frail and willowy from lack of sunlight, shattered under the torrent of energy. Lightening flashed from the sky and struck several patches of forest floor, tearing up more ground. To Ralf, he sent an inaudible, _A-nis._ (_Now_.)

Ralf glanced between Merlin and the Sorcerer before making a snap decision. Pulling the vial containing his, Geoffrey, William and Merlin's blood from his pocket, he scooted outside the circle before sealing it closed with the blood and his wand.

"Ralf!" Geoffrey cried, moving close to the edge but not stepping over the line least he break the power of the magic.

Ralf ignored Geoffrey, turning just in time to see the anger on the Sorcerer's face. Quickly he palmed some potions from his pocket, murmured an incantation and threw it in the Sorcerer's direction. Unfortunately, at the exact same moment Piruz hurled a spell at Merlin. Ralf's and Piruz's spells collided in midair, sending an explosion of intense fire spiraling out from its core. Ralf's eyes widened comically as he quickly dropped to the ground. Glancing over at Merlin, their eyes met and he grimaced.

Chuckling amusedly, Merlin crouched down to avoid the flames. Sinking his fingers into the ground, he pulled power from the earth and sent it plowing toward Piruz.

When the ground split and cracked, Piruz leapt sideways in an attempt to avoid falling into the widening crevasse racing in his direction. Hissing out a frustrated cry, he collected his strength and hurled more spells as he dodged another jagged flash of lightening. Dropping beneath the limbs of a fallen oak, he said a short incantation and lobbed a fiery spell at Merlin in an attempt to distract the mage from his engagement. The spell, however, was intercepted by another flash of flame that came out of nowhere that Piruz could see. It had to be the young apprentice.

Merlin eyed the Sorcerer. The man just wouldn't concede; maybe _couldn't_ concede. He did not wish for his death, but he could not allow him to continue hurting people. Grabbing shafts of sunlight, he balled it into a molten sphere. Touching the top, the sphere split into eight scorching hot daggers. Murmuring softly under his breath, he sent the daggers toward Piruz, not to kill but to trap.

Piruz jerked in surprise as eight flaming daggers hovered in the air surrounding him, waiting but not striking. "jaban," _(coward)_ he muttered in derision. The mage hadn't the heart to finish the task. He had overestimated him. Piruz scrambled toward the Tree. He knew the black-haired young man had made a protection circle around it, but that was not a cause for concern; he knew how to get around protection circles. Lips twisted in a slight smile, he murmured an incantation under his breath as he moved closer, the flames still hot over his head, his cage of daggers moving apace. When he neared the edges of the circle, he threw the spell.

The magic crackled along the protection circle yet did not penetrate. Eyes wide in surprise, Piruz quickly marshaled another spell as the heat over his head diminished. He let the spell fly, but to no avail.

"Is mos non operari," Merlin said quietly. _(That will not work.) _With a slight wave of his hand, the flaming daggers faded.

Frustrated nearly beyond reason, Piruz climbed to his feet and faced Merlin, fists clenched. "Quid fecisti?" _(What have you done?)_

Merlin lifted his shoulder slightly, saying, "In arbore mea." _(Made the Tree mine.)_

Piruz's mouth dropped open, and his emotions stormed wildly. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt except out of control. For generations of time he had researched the method for his vengeance. More generations had been spent learning how to bring the Tree here from the other side, more in learning to use and control its power. And in the space of a length of sunlight moving across the ground, Merlin had undone all his work. In one furious second he unleashed a spell so powerful, the shaking of the earth, the tumbling of bushes and the falling of trees obscured all. Nothing but the deafening roar of a world in the throes of anguish filled the air.

Elation quickened Piruz's heart as finally, nature settled its turbulent roaring and silence reigned. Dust was everywhere, swirling gently as it returned lethargically to the ground. Slowly, as though through an image in a dream, a figure came into view. Shock stole the elation from his body; Merlin. Piruz's eyes darted to the side and saw Merlin's three comrades on their feet; two inside the circle, one just outside, watching him. Eyes darting back to Merlin, he found he had no words to give voice to his questions, so numerous were they.

Heart full of regret, Merlin watched the Sorcerer. So much power, so much creativity wasted on the fleeting and unrewarding quest of revenge. "Habes potestatem. Cur domui sue retinere?" _(You have power. Why do you squander it?)_

Piruz didn't respond. He merely watched the mage while at the same time he wondered whether he would be able to salvage anything from this confrontation.

Merlin looked as though he knew exactly what the Sorcerer was thinking. Glancing down with a grudging shake of his head, he sighed. There would be no reasoning with this man. Geoffrey was correct, William and Ralf were correct; the Sorcerer's heart was set on destruction and revenge. He'd known it himself, yet somewhere deep inside he had retained a glimmer of hope such a talented man could be reasoned with. Straightening his shoulders, he met the Sorcerer's eyes with a direct gaze of his own and said, "Vos postulo ut prohibere. Mihi vindicta nihil futurae. _(You need to stop. Revenge has no future.)_

Piruz ground his teeth a second before stating, "Non possum." _(I cannot.)_

"Deinde nos prohibere te." _(Then we will stop you.)_

Snorting softly, Piruz hissed, "In æternum vive: non te." _(You will not live forever.)_

"Non ego," Merlin answered as he lifted his arm to the three men standing nearby, "Sed sicut sunt custodes remanebit." _(Not I, but they will remain as my guardians.)_

"Et erit in æternum vive?" Piruz laughed. _(So, they will live forever?)_

An expression of enigmatic assurance crossed Merlin's face. "Ita, erunt." _(Yes, they will.)_

Piruz's face went blank. Here was a secret; one he already knew the mage would be unwilling to share. Secrets and magic, twined in mystery. There was nothing left here. Failure had been his lot this day, but it would not be his finale. Murmuring slightly, he said the spell that had saved him numerous times in the past. The small window in space opened, and he gave Merlin a nod, and stepped through.

Geoffrey and William had seen the window open and had rushed to the inner edge of the circle. However, they couldn't step across the line or the circle would break. They watched, impotent, as the Sorcerer stepped through the window and disappeared. Eyes turning to Merlin, they watched as their teacher and friend walked over to the spot where Piruz had stood only breaths before, lifted a hand and felt the magic there.

"Càit an deach e?" asked William. _(Where has he gone?)_

Merlin felt the magic of space and distance. "Gu àite eile." _(Elsewhere.)_

Ralf frowned. "Dè tha sin a 'ciallachadh?" _(What does that mean?)_

Not knowing how to explain a concept he only sensed rather than truly understood, Merlin merely shook his head. Moving away from the place where the Sorcerer disappeared, he came to the edge of the circle. Lifting a hand, he tapped the barrier lightly and it dropped.

Geoffrey closed his eyes as a breeze of cool air wafted across his sweaty face. The buzzing in his head intensified now that his mind was not occupied curtailing the violence of the villagers. A grunt nearby told him William was similarly affected. No one on the ground was stirring yet, and for that he was grateful.

Merlin went to Ralf and asked, "A bheil thu gu math?" _(Are you well?)_

Ralf grimaced slightly, but nodded.

Merlin looked up and assessed Geoffrey and William. Geoffrey was covered in dirt, grime and blood, his clothing a disheveled mess. A long gash ran the length of his face from his hairline down onto his neck. The leather tunic covering William's left shoulder was darkened with blood, though it appeared his arm remained strong enough to retain a sturdy grip on his broadsword. His garments were as sullied and torn as Geoffrey's. Glancing upward, Merlin knew the Tree needed to go back from wherever the Sorcerer had taken it. He suspected it was from the place he'd glimpsed through the window. Now he needed to figure out how to get it there.

Geoffrey studied Merlin for a moment, then said, "Fhad 's a tha thu a' dealbhadh na slighe gus a bhith a 'tòimhseachadh dhuinn de seo," he nodded in the direction of the Tree, "nì sinn sgrùdadh airson a 'bhaile, bheir sinn na daoine sin dhachaigh." _(While you devise the path to ridding us of this, we will search for the village, take these people home.)_

"Cuidich le bhith a 'tiodhlacadh nam marbh," William added. _(Help bury the dead.)_

Ralf stared around at the bodies, his heart sick. During the engagement he was aware of the fighting, of course. However, he had been too focused on making Merlin's circle to observe the battle. Now, his heart was wrenched. "Faodaidh sinn geas a dhìochuimhneachadh, nach urrainn dhuinn?" he asked, his tortured gaze going to Merlin. "Cha b 'urrainn don inntinn seasamh ris an eòlas a thug iad air ionnsaigh a thoirt air na nàbaidhean aca, an caraidean," he swallowed tightly and finished in barely a whisper, "an teaghlaichean." _(We can make a spell of forgetting, can we not? Their minds could not withstand the knowledge they had attacked their neighbors, their friends, their families.)_

Merlin nodded. "Faodaidh, is urrainn dhuinn." _(We can, yes.)_

"An uairsin gluaisidh sinn fhad 's a tha thu ag obair," William stated. _(Then we will move while you work.) _Turning, he began to climb the slope on the south side of the Tree, making quick time.

Geoffrey took a moment to clasp Ralf's shoulder in solidarity before he followed.

"Aon uair 's gu bheil thu air doused airson uisge, cruinnich cuid anns a' chraiceann uisge a bharrachd," Merlin said. "Stèidhich am pistil agus bobhla, an uairsin cuir a-mach na luibhean. Nì sinn dreach gus cuimhne atharrachadh agus cadal a bhrosnachadh." _(Once you have doused for water, gather some in the spare water-skin, set up the pistil and bowl, then portion out the herbs. We will make a draft to alter memory and encourage sleep.)_

Ralf's eyes went to the Tree as he nodded. Digging in his pack, he pulled out the spare skin and got to work.

**.**

Geoffrey and William had gone almost half a league when the forest thinned and they spied a small village nestled along the side of a hill.

William wiped the sweat from his face, his eyes on the trees and bushes leading into the town.

"Tha e a 'nochdadh fàsach," Geoffrey murmured. _(It appears deserted.)_

"Chan eil an rud a tha coltach ri sin an-còmhnaidh." _(What appears to be so is not always.)_

"Fìor fhìor, a charaid." Geoffrey watched the small thatched homes for any sign of movement. _(Very true, my friend.)_

They made their way through the last of the bushes and brambles before they stepped onto a narrow path which threaded its way down to the village. A deserted blacksmith and a small stable stood at the outer edge of the township. Spools of wool and burlap hung suspended from long cords in the window of a shop next door. They swung gently in the breeze wafting through the open door. As they moved cautiously up the dirt street, a sound on their left had them turning just in time to see a narrow door click shut.

Immediately on guard, William nodded to Geoffrey as they separated. William went around the back of the building while Geoffrey broached the front. Slowly he pulled the cord on the door and gave a light push. A small body collided with him as a very young boy darted out the door. He was just able to catch the back of the child's shirt before he hit the street.

"Entspann dich, junge," Geoffrey stated in Old Saxon. _(Relax, boy.)_

William hurried back around the building to find Geoffrey struggling with a small, human wildcat.

"Entspannen," Geoffrey repeated. _(Relax.)_

William looked up and frowned, having not understood the language.

Geoffrey explained, "Er spricht kein Gälisch." _(He doesn't speak Gaelic.) _

The child swung a small fist at Geoffrey's body. "Lass mich gehen!" _(Let me go!)_

"Bidh sin gu leòr de sin, laddie," William said, as he reached out and caught up the child to his chest. _(That will be enough of that, laddie.)_

"Du kannst uns nicht verletzen, du kannst nicht," the child screamed, tears making dirty tracks down his cheeks. _(You cannot hurt us, you cannot.)_

Geoffrey clicked his tongue, saying, "Hör auf zu kämpfen, kind. Hör auf zu kämpfen. Scheint es, als würde ich versuchen, dich zu verletzen?" _(Stop fighting, child; stop fighting. Does it appear we are attempting to hurt you?)_

The child stilled slightly as he realized he was only being held, not harmed. "Sie haben uns verletzt," the boy whispered. _(They hurt us.)_

Geoffrey felt his heart clenched as his eyes jerked up to William's. "Tha cuideigin air an goirteachadh," he repeated in Gaelic. _(Someone hurt them.)_

William knelt down before the child, who looked as though he was about six summers old. "Cò a rinn cron ort, a bhalaich?" _(Who hurt you, lad?)_

The child looked up at Geoffrey, who translated the question. Gulping, the child hiccupped slightly as he whispered, "Mama und Papa."

William's head dropped as he closed his eyes.

Geoffrey came around to face the child. Kneeling, he said, "Wie heißen Sie?" _(What is your name?)_

"Lanzo," the child whispered.

"Verstecken sich noch andere?" Geoffrey asked. _(Are there others hiding?)_

Lanzo nodded. "Ich habe sie versteckt." _(I hid them.)_

"Hast du?" Geoffrey murmured, giving the child a nod. "Du bist ein sehr mutiger Junge. Kannst du mir zeigen wo?" _(You did? You are a very brave boy. Can you show me where?)_

The child nodded. Shyly he took Geoffrey's hand and the odd trio started down the wide pathway through the village. Wind whistled through open windows and over barrels, and still they walked, past the edge of town and into the edges of the forest. Finally the child stopped beside what looked like a gin shack. Reaching over, he pulled open the door.

William felt his breath stopper in his chest at the sight. Inside, several small faces blinked up at him. "Morair Uile-chumhachdach." _(Lord Almighty.)_

Children from babies up to around twelve were huddled in the rickety shack, shivering as the elements seeped in through the gaps in the warped and weathered wood.

Geoffrey turned to William. "Fuirichidh mi an seo, bidh a 'chlann air an glanadh agus blàth. Cuidich Merlin le am pàrantan, agus ma tha dreach aige airson an fheadhainn bheaga ..." he shook his head. "Cha bu chòir dhaibh cuimhneachadh." _(I'll stay here, aid the children in getting clean and warm. Help Merlin with their parents, and if he has a draft for the little ones ... They should not remember.)_

William sighed and nodded. "Glè mhath." _(Very well.)_ Turning to the small boy who'd led them there, he gave the child a smile and said, "Tillidh mi." _(I shall return.)_

The boy looked to Geoffrey, who translated, "Er wird bald zurückkehren."

The child nodded and gave the large man a tentative smile as William rose and strode quickly back through the village to where Merlin and Ralf were working, vengeance in his own heart at the horror the Sorcerer had perpetuated on these innocent people.

Geoffrey looked back at the children, smiled. "Lass uns aufwärmen und etwas zu essen bekommen." _(Let us be warm and get something to eat.)_

The children nodded and began clamoring from the shack, one delivering a small baby into Geoffrey's surprised hands. Lanzo smiled and took the tiny girl. "Wir können in die Kirche gehen." _(We can go to the church.)_

"Ein ausgezeichneter Vorschlag," Geoffrey agreed. _(An excellent proposal.)_

**.**

Four hours later Merlin stood beside the Tree again. Weary in body and spirit, he stared up at the beautiful exhibit of God's creation. A dark, rich piece of fruit hung tantalizingly near him, just out of reach. He was tempted to take a bite, but instead turned his back and walked away.

Following the battle, he and Ralf had finished an amnesia draft before beginning the gruesome task of separating the dead from the living. Once the task had been completed, Merlin was gratified to see there were fewer causalities than he'd originally feared. Still, any loss from this small hamlet was a tragedy.

"An seo," _(here)_ Ralf murmured, handing Merlin an oddly shaped drinking cup. The vessel was shaped like a pear with a small spout emerging from one side of the larger lower half. A small cork stoppered the end of the spout.

Merlin nodded. Pouring the potion into the oddly-shaped cup, he moved to one of the unconscious people; a young woman with silvery blond hair. Gently he tugged opened her mouth, pulled the stopper from the spout, and poured a trickle of potion past her full lips and went on to the next. Ralf, with a similar cup, moved from person to person beside Merlin, trickling the potion down people's throats. As they were finishing their work, William returned alone, and explained about the children in the village.

Over the next couple of hours, Ralf, Geoffrey and William worked on transporting the villagers back to their town with the use a wobbly horse cart that had seen better decades. Rather than a horse, they found a docile cow to pull the sleeping villagers back to their town, relocating every living adult to the church to lie alongside the sleeping children. Ralf had collected as many blankets as he could and was making the townspeople as comfortable as possible. William found the apothecary's dwelling, and there they put the seven dead; five men and two women. Ralf came, said a prayer and covered the bodies in bay laurel and parsley to preserve them for burial. When he finished, he stepped quietly out of the small shop and closed the door.

**.**

Geoffrey loped down the slight hill. The uncomfortable buzzing in his head grew the closer he got to the Tree. Sighing, he walked over to where Merlin sat, working. "A bheil thu air an tòimhseachan fhuasgladh?" _(Have you solved the puzzle?)_

Merlin turned to view his friend. Instead of giving an immediate answer to Geoffrey's question, he asked, "A bheil a h-uile càil gu math anns a 'bhaile?" _(Is all well in the village?)_

Geoffrey sighed and dropped down beside the mage. He was wrecked over the entire situation. "Chaidh an carbad mu dheireadh de dh 'inbhich fhalamhachadh san eaglais. Tha Uilleam na sheasamh gus an dùisg aon de na h-inbhich." _(The last wagon of men and women was emptied at the church. William is standing guard till one of the adults awakens.)_

"Agus Ralf?" _(And Ralf?)_

"Bidh e na shuidhe leis a 'chloinn." _(He sits with the children.)_

Merlin started to ask why, then smiled. Of course Ralf would sit with the children until an adult could see to their welfare. He would want no child to waken alone.

Geoffrey merely stared at the Tree, waiting for Merlin to answer his question.

Rising, Merlin took a step away from the young Knight to walk the perimeter of the Tree. He starred up at the incredible beauty; a dangerous beauty that could not stay in this world. Even he could feel the tug of good intentions and wicked building within his soul. He glanced over at Geoffrey, curious as to whether the younger man was experiencing the same inner conflict despite the protection pouch around his neck. Yes, he had devised a means to send the Tree back from whence it came. Whether it worked or not would be determined at the spell's completion. He hoped it would, as it was the only plan he had

Striding over to his pack, he picked up his wand. Turning to Geoffrey, he said, "Feumaidh mi thu a bhith gad ghiùlan fhèin mar a chanas mi." _(I need you to act as I say.)_

Immediately Geoffrey nodded.

Merlin walked to the north side of the Tree. Bending low, he used his wand to begin another circle. When he reached the western side, he left a blank space equal to twelve barleycorns then continued south. On the east side of the Tree, he again left a blank space in the circle, then continued until he reached his starting point. After taking a moment to survey the circle, he walked over to the blank space on the western side. Touching his wand to the circle on the right side of the open space, he drew another loop outward before connecting it to the other side of the space. It looked like half a bubble in the circle. Moving to the eastern side, he did the same, only on this side he stopped just shy of closing the loop. When he stood back, he had a nearly completed circle, with a cupola on either side.

Returning to Geoffrey's side, he said, "Tha mi ag iarraidh gun cuir thu earbsa annam." _(I ask that you trust me.)_

Geoffrey's brows rose in surprise. Instead of the quick assurance that had leapt to his lips, he stopped himself and took a moment to study the mage. Finally he said, "Tha e agad." _(You have it.)_

Merlin motioned for Geoffrey to step into the cupola on the western side of the circle. He handed over a wand, then placed something cool and metal into the young Knight's hand. "Cuir seo ort agus dèan mar a chì thu mi a 'dèanamh." _(Wear this and do as you see me do.)_

Geoffrey looked down at the silver band in his hand, then up at the mage and nodded.

Merlin then walked around the Tree to the eastern side and stepped inside the cupola. Taking a deep breath, he closed the circle. When he finished, he looked across the large, oddly shaped circle to Geoffrey and smiled. "Na biodh sgàth ort." _(Do not be afraid.)_

Geoffrey smiled. "Leat, chan eil mi." _(With you, I am not.)_

Merlin closed his eyes, marshaled all his inner strength and reached out into nature and pulled the bounty from the earth. When he started speaking, the wind wiped up and the skies churned with power. Power rose within the circle as he slowly raised his hands into the air. As the magic rose, so did his voice as he spoke. When he thought he couldn't take the pressure of all the magic building inside the circle, he threw his hands out and shouted as a blinding light blasted upward and out, obliterating the circle.

**.**

_Several days later…_

Merlin looked at the three men sitting around the narrow table in his small home, men who had left all they'd known to be the beginning of a legacy that would span generations. They trusted him with their lives and their futures. Smiling, he said, "Is tu triùir a 'chiad bhall den Bhràithreachas. Bidh am Bràithreachas mar luchd-dìon mac an duine. Bidh thu a 'sabaid ris na h-uilebheistean agus na creutairean mì-nàdarrach a tha a' cuairteachadh na talmhainn, agus a 'toirt taic dhaibhsan nach urrainn sabaid air an son fhèin. Bidh mòran a 'tighinn còmhla ris an cogadh-croise againn, agus bidh thu gan stiùireadh, gan trèanadh, a' cumail sùil air an son agus a 'sabaid rin taobh."

_(You three are the first members of the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood will be the protectors of mankind. You will fight the monsters and unnatural creatures that roam the earth, and champion those who cannot fight for themselves. Many will join our crusade, and you will lead them, train them, watch out for them and fight beside them.)_

Standing, Merlin walked around the table to the young, black-haired Seer. "Ralf, mo charaid òg, idealistic. Bidh d 'eòlas, do cheasnachd, d' acras airson eòlas agus do thiodhlac seallaidh mar chomharradh air Sgoilear an Triad bho seo a-mach." (_Ralf, my young, idealistic friend. Your intelligence, your curiosity, your hunger for knowledge and your gift of sight will be a sign of the Scholar of the Triad from henceforth.) _Reaching out, he lifted his fingers and touched Ralf on each side of his temple.

Ralf blinked. He felt like the world had been opened to him as light erupted in his head.

Merlin winked at the willowy young man before turning to William. To the large warrior, he held out a substantial blade with a black stone handle and red markings intricately decorating the handle moving down along the blade. "Uilleam. Tha thu nad ghaisgeach cumhachdach le cridhe Ridire agus misneachd gladiator. Tha an lann seo an urra ri Ridire a 'Bhràithreachais." _(William. You are a mighty warrior with the heart of a Knight and the courage of a gladiator. This blade is entrusted to the Knight of the Brotherhood.)_

William didn't immediately take the blade. Instead he frowned and repeated, "Am Bràithreachas?" _(The Brotherhood?)_

"Tha dorchadas anns an t-saoghal seo; creutairean agus creutairean a bhios a 'cleachdadh na h-oidhche agus na faileasan gus cron a dhèanamh air na neo-chiontach. Tha feum aig an t-saoghal air curaidhean. Bidh an triùir agad a 'stiùireadh na mealltaichean, Triad air a dhèanamh suas de Sgoilear, Ridire," he smiled at William, "agus Neach-dìon," he nodded to Geoffrey. "Thusa," he turned back to William, "is iad a 'chiad Ridire a' Bhràithreachais, earbsa leis a 'ghnìomh airson an Neach-dìon a dhìon, an toiseach; agus a h-uile duine eile às deidh. Is e seo do chlaidheamh."

_(There is darkness in this world; creatures and beings that use the night and its shadows to harm the innocent. The world is in need of champions. Thou will lead the fighters, a Triad composed of a Scholar, a Knight, __[he smiled at William,]__ and a Guardian, __[he nodded to Geoffrey.]__ You, __[he turned back to William]__ are the very first Knight of the Brotherhood, entrusted with the task of protecting the Guardian, first; and all others thereafter. This will be your sword.)_

William's head felt frozen, his mind unable to grasp the enormity of the task Merlin had lain out before them. Slowly his eyes dropped to the magnificent blade the mage held out. Lifting a hand, he clasped the black stone handle and instantly felt the mystical power that flowed from the blade into his body. Eyes wide, his head jerked up. "Dè th 'ann?" _(What is it?)_

"Mo chumhachd, mo dhraoidheachd a 'sabaid tromhad," Merlin stated. _(My power, my magic fighting through you.)_

William stared down at the blade again, maneuvering it through the air, noting its perfect balance. "Mo thaing." _(My thanks.)_

Turning to Geoffrey, he smiled. "Geoffrey. Is tusa an t-anam, an spiorad, an combaist moralta agus stiùiriche a 'Bhràithreachais. Tha earbsa agad mu an sàbhailteachd agus an àm ri teachd. Thoir aire dhaibh." _(Geoffrey. You are the soul, the spirit, the moral compass and the leader of The Brotherhood. To you I entrust their safety and their future. Take care of them.)_

Geoffrey nodded. "Nì mi sin." _(I will.)_

William and Ralf watched the two for a few moments before William said, "Dè thug thu do Geoffrey?" _(What hath thou given Geoffrey?)_

Merlin smiled. "Chan e na rudan as urrainn dhomh a thoirt do Geoffrey; is e seo as urrainn dha Geoffrey a thoirt don Bhràithreachas." _(Tis not what I can give Geoffrey; tis what Geoffrey can give the Brotherhood.)_

Frowning, Ralf asked, "Dè a dh 'fhaodadh sin a bhith?" _(What may that be?)_

Merlin smiled. "Cridhe." _(Heart.)_

Geoffrey smiled back, his head ducking slightly. His right finger rubbed lightly at the warm, silver band on his hand. Later tonight, he would give both Ralf and William the first rings of the Brotherhood, and they would be connected forever. The future began with them, and he desperately wanted the future to be proud.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_Merlin, Geoffrey, William and Ralf are speaking Ancient Gaelic. Whenever Piruz is speaking, he and those replying are speaking Latin._

_Geoffrey speaks to the child in Old Saxon (Old Saxon = Low German, so I'm using plain German.)_

_In case you were wondering:_

_Furlong = an eighth of a mile / 8 furlongs = 1 mile_

_Rod = a medieval unit of measure; equals 5 ½ yards._

_Punct = a quarter of an hour in Medieval Europe._

_Dousing = a type of divination used in searching for water/ground water._

_League = 3 miles_

_3 barleycorns = 1 inch_


	18. Chapter 18

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 18

.

The automatic doors of the hospital's emergency exit swished open and Dean limped out. Stopping on the cement walk just past the magnetic rubber pad, he rubbed gingerly at his aching thigh. A slow, wet trail slid past his knee and he sighed. Onida could have healed his leg a couple days ago and the wounds would have been forgotten. But that was the crux of it all, wasn't it? He didn't want it forgotten. Right now, in this moment, he didn't want to forget what he'd done, didn't want to forget that he was here while other souls were in hell, suffering. Yes, years before Sam and Caleb had both made the case for those souls having done terrible things when they were alive, thus earning hell. But he was the one who'd been there, he was the one who'd heard their screams, he was the one who'd inflicted the pain, and he was the one who had reveled in the agony. So right now, just for a little while, he needed to feel their pain and maybe even say a prayer for their souls.

Straightening slightly, he pulled in a breath of cool pre-dawn air and just let his gaze roam over the parking lot and beyond. At just after six, dawn still hovered in the wings, waiting for the curtain of darkness to rise. Leaves on the trees lining the hospital property rustled in the slight breeze. There was a calm to early morning that Dean had always loved. It meant a fresh start; that all the crap that came with yesterday was washed away. When he was young, it was a moment to breathe before his responsibilities demanded his attention: getting Sammy up for school, fixing breakfast, making lunches and cleaning the dishes before getting them both out the door. Even now there were mornings when he would rise before Juliet, pour a hot cup of coffee and stand on the porch watching the dawn.

A soft flopping sound had him shifting his gaze beyond the tree line to a young man on the sidewalk. The kid was lifting the backpack he'd obviously dropped while juggling his coffee and a football. Early morning practice, probably. After a dicey moment or two, the youth succeeded in balancing his belongs and continued down the street. Shaking his head, Dean huffed out a short laugh. It was surreal to know that a thousands-year-old mad witch was threatening the very fabric of the world, and that humanity went about its day, oblivious. Lifting his head with a sigh, he squared his shoulders and started for his car. Ancient sorcerer savant or not, they would stop him; they had to.

* * *

Sam stepped outside the side door to the hotel, threw back his shoulders and took a deep, cleansing breath. Dean had called before six, saying that Caleb had woken up and was doing fine, and that he himself would be heading back to the hotel for some shut-eye. Relieved, both Sam and Joshua decided they'd better get some sleep as well. Sam had offered to organize their paperwork while Joshua headed up. Joshua seemed to be on the trail of how this spell worked, and to Sam, that meant they were making headway in stopping this witch. After tidying up the conference room and locking their computers and paperwork in a nearby cupboard, compliments of the hotel's night manager, Sam decided he needed a moment of fresh air before heading upstairs.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was likely planted in Lebanon Kansas. He and Dean had been born a scant three and a half hours from there. It was almost as though they were fated to deal with all the crap in the world. It was purely coincidence, of course. The middle of the United States was the middle, regardless of where _they'd_ been born. But he couldn't help making the comparison. Regardless, they needed to know how to stop Piruz's plans. The question was, how did you combat something that wasn't even from their own reality? Of course, if any Triad had experience with that, he supposed, it was theirs.

A slight prickling sensation lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. He was not alone. Whirling around, Sam stared at a very tall man, one who had maybe an inch or two even on him, standing about ten feet away.

"Bonum mane." _(Good morning.)_

Reinforcing his blocks, Sam nodded slowly, murmuring a cautious, "Bonum mane." He hadn't had an up close and personal with Piruz, having only addressed him over a distance of several yards in a darkened field. Now, in the lightening day, he found the man intriguing.

Piruz smiled. Looking away from Sam and over to where the sun's halo was cresting the horizon, he said, "Pulchra est, annon?" _(Beautiful, is it not?)_

Unlike Piruz, Sam's gaze didn't shift even as he nodded.

Eyes back on Sam, Piruz took in his height and appearance. "O videns, corrigere?" _(Seer, correct?)_

Sam frowned. He didn't plan on giving away anything that might be useful later. Instead of confirming he was psychic, he said, "Scholar."

"Magister?" _(Teacher?)_

"Teacher and Scholar," Sam confirmed.

Piruz nodded. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and Sam, instead of breaking the silence, allowed it to continue for as long as it took for the wizard to get to the point.

Finally, Piruz sighed. "Cur pugnare mecum?" _(Why do you fight me?)_

"Milia ibique moriemini." _(Millions will die.)_

"Quod si mali sunt, quid quaeris?" _(If they are evil, why do you care?)_

"Bonum tibi peribit." _(Good will perish as well.)_

Piruz growled in frustration. "Tantum moles parva. Maioris esse superesse auxilium tuum. _(Only a few. Most would survive with your help.)_

Sam frowned. "Quam ut auxilium?" _(How would we help?)_

Piruz looked nonplussed at the question. "Pugnans malum, milites." _(Knights fighting evil.)_

Sam blinked in surprise. "Tu pugnare volunt nobis mala." _(You want us to fight evil.)_

"Scilicet. Hoc est officium tuum, verum?" _(Of course. That is your job, true?)_

Shaking his head in amazement, Sam tried to spin his thinking to this new bit of revelation. Piruz wanted to unleash the ultimate seeds of good and evil, counting on _them_ to help fight the evil. Suddenly he remembered Nathaniel Bowman, the shapeshifter police officer in Chicago. Piruz had almost killed him like four other shapeshifters, but in the end had healed him. Nathaniel was a law enforcement officer, sworn to protect and serve. He would be a part of Piruz's army. They all were supposed to be part of his army.

"Nos non potest salvum facere totum bonum," Sam stated. _(We could not save all the good.)_

Piruz shrugged. "Homines moriemini." _(People die.)_

"Quot mortes est gratum?" _(How many deaths are acceptable?)_

"Satis succedant." _(Enough to succeed.)_

Sam could see the logic of what Piruz was suggesting, and that disturbed him. Separating those who were violent from society and letting good people live in peace and harmony. But Piruz's premise was flawed. Knowledge of evil had seeded man's heart since that first bite of forbidden fruit was consumed. All mankind had the seeds of violence in their hearts.

When he and Dean were children, John would occasionally leave them at Pastor Jim's. Jim would always make them attend church with him on Sundays. One Sunday morning sermon stood out in his young mind. Pastor Jim had preached on the fallibleness of humanity and the goodness of God by using a verse that said if man, though they were evil, knew how to give good gifts to their children, how much more will God in heaven give good gifts to those who ask. He remembered Dean had been very angry, thinking Pastor Jim was saying their father was evil. It had taken a lot of explaining, and a couple pieces of apple pie, for Jim to convince Dean that wasn't what he had been saying at all.

"Non est hominis bonum," Sam countered. "Homines uitiosam colit." _(There is no good. __Humans are sinful.)_

"Edere de ligno et facti sunt mali?" Piruz snorted in derision. _(Eat of the Tree and become evil?)_

Sam wasn't sure how to answer that. The question of the Garden and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was something Piruz knew about, and he knew that the Tree unleashed good and bad intentions. He saw them as two sides of a coin, and he wanted to eliminate one side. But if you take away one side, the coin doesn't remain. "Homo enim fecit boni et mali. Potest autem fieri, separantur?" _(Man is made of good and evil. Can they truly be separated?)_

Piruz frowned, his head cocked to the side in thought. "Quid censes homo creatus est malum?" _(Why would you think man was created evil?)_

In a blinding flash Sam had a profound revelation. Neither he, Caleb, Dean, Joshua, none of them would ever be able to connect, intellectually, with Piruz. They were raised in a post-Christ Western world. The Bible and its values were woven into the very fabric of their thinking. He couldn't separate himself from his origins any more than Piruz could separate himself from his. How could he reach someone logically who was from a very different and long ago era? His pulse started to hammer. He was out here all alone with an extremely powerful wizard, only a few spell bags in his pocket. Keep him talking, was Sam's only thought. "Vitam habet valorem, quod sic?" _(Life has value, yes?)_

Piruz studied Sam intently before nodding.

"Quam multa valore?" _(How much value?)_

Frowning, Piruz thought a moment before saying, "Quid est mensura?" _(What would be the measure?)_

Sam shrugged. "Quantum conferant ad societatem?" _(How much they contribute to society?)_

Piruz nodded slowly. "Ambitu societatis." _(Define society.)_

"Bonum quaestio." _(Good question)_ Sam gave the matter due thought and measured his words carefully as he replied, "Populous, quod sic? Non animalibus." _(People, right? No animals.)_

Piruz smiled slightly. "Populous."

Sam nodded. "Omnes jus. Societas hominum. Omnes homines? _(All right, society is people. All people?)_

Piruz's eyes narrowed. "Quod sic." _(Yes.)_

Turning slightly, Sam paced a few steps, fingering the spell bag in his pocket. He'd rather not use it outside the hotel, but he couldn't risk sending off a psychic signal to Caleb. Piruz might hear and pummel him with spells. If only he had gone upstairs with Joshua instead of outside for air. There was air inside too; safer air. Glancing over his shoulder, he clarified, "Dives non modo in ..." _(Not only the rich…)_

"Omnes homines," Piruz confirmed. _(All human beings.)_

Now more than twelve feet away from Piruz, Sam regarded the other man. "Igitur societas decernit qui habet valorem." _(Therefore society determines who has value.)_

"Quidam autem societatis," Piruz countered. _(Some of society.)_

"Quis enim decernit?" _(Who determines that?)_

"Et ego operor." _(I do.)_

Sam's brows raised. "Sola?" _(Alone?)_

"Quod sic." _(Yes.)_

"Ut homo, quis det vobis auctoritatem?" _(As a man, who gives you that authority?)_

Piruz was looking angry, yet unwilling to cease the conversation. "Enki," he stated aggressively.

Sam nodded again. "Enki, Mesapotamia dei. Enki; Anu vel Enlil non? _(Enki, God of Mesopotamia. Enki, not Anu or Enlil?)_

Piruz's eyes widened. Not many in this era knew the gods of Eridu. "Enki." Enki was the god of water, knowledge, mischief, crafts and creation. The God-With-No-Name would be crushed this time.

Sam knew that in Ancient Greece, the Priests had altars for all the gods of the various regions around Greece, and wanting to be inclusive, they included an altar to the Unknown God. In Piruz's culture, all the gods had names, as at that time God had not designated the Hebrew race. Yet the Old Testament acknowledged God in the midst of other gods. Piruz had lived during the time of the flood, therefore he had to have known about Noah. Noah had been called righteous by God. "Quid Noah Dei?" _(What about Noah's God?)_

"Non est Deus," Piruz stated agressively. _(He is no God.)_

"Quare?" _(Why?)_

Piruz stared at Sam, murder in his eyes. He could not talk to these people. Their eyes were too narrowed to their time. "Non ero deorum disputandum tecum." _(I will not debate the gods with you.)_

Sam considered a way forward. This was a man mired in the past, dragging revenge and sorrow through the ages with him like a ball and chain. Logic would do nothing to sway this man from his chosen course. But maybe he could figure out something to help them. Nodding his concession to cease discussion of gods, he said, "Aliqui sunt in societatem ad modum iudices aliorum." _(So, some people in society judge the contributions of others.)_

Piruz sighed. He looked at the sun that was now cresting the horizon. A large man carrying a pack of sorts walked from the hotel and crossed the lot to his truck. Opening the door, he tossed the pack in and joined it. Soon the engine rumbled to life, and the truck churned its way from the hotel lot. "Quid dicam vobis?" _(Why do you speak?)_

Sam's head tilted. "Ego vere vis scire." _(I really want to know.)_

"Non facies tibi. Vos vis mihi prohibere." _(You do not. You want me to stop.)_

That was true, Sam thought. But there was more to this century, a life Piruz could finally have if he would only let go of his pain. "Vos can vivere vita frui; habere uxorem, liberi." _(You can live a good life; have a wife, children.)_

Piruz stepped back further, his face resigned. "Illo tempore abiit. Et erit mihi in ultionem recipiam." Giving Sam a penetrating look, he said, "Ego sincere spem superesse vos et vestrum." _(That time is gone. I will have my revenge. I sincerely hope you and yours survive.) _Turning, he walked to his vehicle.

Sam stepped forward, wanting to stop him but not sure exactly how. One spell pouch wouldn't do much damage against someone as powerful as Piruz, and he couldn't start shooting in the parking lot of the Homewood Suites by Hilton. Knowing he had to do something, he just started forward across the lot when the hotel side doors suddenly swung open and Joshua hurried out, his eyes going directly to Sam. That he'd been getting ready for bed was obvious, as he was wearing the top of a pajama set with his jeans, his sockless feet jammed into his shoes.

Sam pointed to Piruz. Immediately Joshua lifted his hands, murmured a few words under his breath and shoved a wave of power out at the witch.

Piruz stumbled into the car as all the windows on the driver's side of his Hennessey blew out. Whirling, he glared at Sam, then saw Joshua standing nearby. Suddenly, he smiled. "Sorcerer."

"Crafter," Joshua corrected. "Stop your plan."

Piruz cocked his head to the side, obviously translating the words. Then he shook his head. "No," and he slammed a spell at Joshua.

Joshua had been expecting the retaliation, and waved a hand, dispelling the energy into the air.

The move was so Merlin, that Piruz's smile widened. Excited to match wits with this Sorcerer, he stepped forward and threw another spell.

Joshua countered and returned with another two spells, one of which slammed into the side of the Venom as the witch jumped to the side. Piruz countered with another spell, which Joshua slapped away. It crackled along a tall tree beside the hotel door, causing several branches to singe and blacken. Joshua murmured another few words and tossed a spell at the witch, which Piruz brushed off with a pleased look on his face. Joshua had the feeling he was being tested. But he didn't want to use any Triad magic at this juncture. He wasn't giving anything away. Behind him, the hotel side doors opened yet again, and three men walked out. When they saw Joshua and Sam facing off against Piruz, their steps faltered.

"Um, gentleman…" one of the men said, looking uneasily between the three.

Piruz grinned at Joshua and Sam, saying, "Donec iterum convenient," _(Until we meet again.)_ and he climbed into his car. With the roar of his engine and a foot on the pedal, he was around the corner of the hotel in a flash as Joshua and Sam stood watching.

The second of the three men looked over at Sam, asking, "Was that guy trying to steal cars?"

"Maybe," Sam said, pasting on an expression of confused concern. "I think we surprised him."

"Good thing," said the third, walking past. He glanced over at one of his companions. "He might have taken our car, and we're due in Charlotte today."

The first man nodded as they continued on their way to their vehicle. In a couple of minutes they were loaded into their Subaru and heading out of the lot.

Sam gave Joshua a pat on the arm and they headed back into the hotel. Once inside, Sam asked, "How did you know Piruz was out there?"

"Caleb," Joshua said. "Said he woke up and heard your bat signal."

Sam frowned. "I didn't send out a bat signal. I was specifically trying _not_ to send any psychic messages because I didn't want Piruz to hear."

Joshua smiled and lifted his hand, pointing to his own Brotherhood ring. Though his own wasn't included in the Triad alarm system, Caleb had felt his go off and called to warn Joshua. "He called your phone, but I guess it's still in the conference room."

Sam shook his head. "I was so focused on Piruz I didn't even feel the ring getting hot."

"Why were you out here in the first place?" Joshua asked.

Shrugging, Sam said, "Wanted a bit of fresh air before heading to bed. I left my jacket, some paperwork and the cell in the conference room."

"You're supposed to keep it on you at all times," Joshua admonished.

"I know," Sam retorted irritably. "It was only for a moment."

"I expect Dean will have a lot to say … loudly, when he gets here," Joshua remarked humorously with a glance at his watch. "Which should be any minute. Get prepared."

Sam chuckled wearily. Looking at his watch, he was surprised to see it was only six-twenty. It felt much later. Less than fifteen minutes had passed since his conversation with Piruz began. After a stop at the conference room, he and Joshua headed for the elevator and back to their floor.

"I contacted the front desk, extended our rooms for one more day," Joshua said.

"We're leaving today."

"No one has gotten much sleep," Joshua observed. "I don't believe anyone will be ready to check out at eleven. I'll text Daniel and Adam, let them know they can sleep in."

Sam nodded, yawning.

Joshua eyed the younger man and asked, "What happened out there?"

Sam gave their Advisor an overview of the conversation as they walked through the hotel and onto the elevator. "It was almost like he wanted me to agree with what he's planning and help fight the violence." He shook his head. "I tried to get him to see that he couldn't arbitrarily decide who lives and dies, but I'm no philosopher."

"You're a lawyer. You're experienced at persuading people to your point of view."

"I'm a twenty-first century Western lawyer," Sam countered. "Piruz…" he shook his head. "Our entire reasoning is based in twenty-first century Western ideology. It permeates every facet of our thinking. He's from another time, a time when individual life doesn't have the value or rights it does today. It was a time when Kings and Priests decided the merit of a person's life."

"He doesn't mind people dying."

"For a greater good," Sam argued. "In his mind, the deaths of some for everyone would be acceptable." They stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall toward their rooms.

"A concept Generals the world over have debated when stakes are high. Maybe its Caleb who should do the reasoning," Joshua suggested.

"Maybe," Sam murmured. In truth, he could see the allure of doing something that would banish all evil. His lawyer's brain could even rationalize some dying for the greater good. After all, years before he'd momentarily considered allowing the virginal Nancy Fitzgerald to die in order to save everyone else in Monument Colorado. Of course, he'd been under the influence of Ruby and the terrifying fear of losing Dean. At that time Dean's deal with the Crossroads demon was coming to an end; a deal that had been made to save Sam's life. How Sam had hated that deal. Not only for Dean's trading his life; but it put him in the unfair position of having to be worthy of the sacrifice. It was an untenable way to live. He would have done anything back then to save his brother, and that meant making compromises. In Monument, his view of compromise had been cultivated by Ruby, a view with which Dean had been appalled.

Dean had been his compass back then, his guide to what was right. It wasn't until years later that he'd been able to fully realize how important Dean was to him and the Brotherhood. His brother could be annoying and aggravating at times, but his moral compass was a laser pointing straight toward good. He'd learned a lot since those days, had realized that sacrificing anyone led down a path to one's own destruction. Yet he could still see why Piruz would consider some good people dying as acceptable in his scheme to abolish evil. But Sam also knew Piruz's plan was based in revenge and not in the true desire to see evil abolished. And revenge was a slope he'd slid down for a long time, almost to the point of no return.

Joshua stopped outside his room and slid his key into the lock. It clicked to green. "Get some sleep and don't worry about the time. We're going to need the rest."

Sam nodded and continued on down three doors to his own room. He wasn't inside five minutes before Dean was through the door.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Sam rushed to say.

Dean regarded Sam carefully before he was satisfied as to his wellness. With a sigh, he dropped onto the small couch like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Good." Looking up, he asked, "What happened?"

Sam recounted the events outside for the second time. "He believes he's doing the right thing," he confided.

Dean snorted. "Right thing? He wants to let loose chaos and kill millions of people so he can show up God."

"He wants to eliminate evil. Sounds like something we would do."

Dean regarded his brother. He too remembered the times when Sam's pragmatic sense led him in the wrong direction. But that was years ago, and he knew Sam was playing devil's advocate in this scenario. "He wants to send the world into a tailspin so he can show up God. _See, God? Killing everyone wasn't necessary; you could have eliminated evil without drowning the entire world._"

"Except Noah and his family," Sam interjected.

"Except for Noah," Dean conceded. "If I believed for one moment his plan was rooted in a true desire to eliminate evil…" he paused, "well, I'd still stop him, because the collateral damage is unacceptable, but I'd feel bad about it."

Sam chuckled. Sighing, he dropped onto the couch beside his brother. "He sounds so reasonable when he talks about the good of the world and getting rid of evil so good people have a chance at a great life."

"So do most sociopaths," Dean observed. "Reasonable until their will is thwarted, then they're not."

Sam smiled at the word _thwarted_. It was so melodramatically Dean. "He watched his whole family die," he said softly. "They drowned, probably right before his eyes. That's got to scar a person's soul."

"You watched me die, and survived with your soul intact," Dean murmured, eyes on his brother.

Sam felt the tears of old pain moisten his eyes. The long ago echo of Dean's screams on the dark night air were a wound to his soul. While Dean coming back to them had been a soothing balm, the scars of his loss still remained.

"You have the scars," Dean said knowingly, "but you became strong and more compassionate toward those in pain. You survived and dedicated your life to helping others. You didn't rub your hands together in some Machiavellian manner and plan for centuries to doom the world."

"I did for awhile," Sam whispered.

Dean sat up and turned to face his brother. "Yeah, you lost yourself for awhile, and I know you think it was my return that brought you back to the Brotherhood. But Sammy, I know you. You might have wallowed in pain for awhile, but even if I'd stayed dead you would have found your way back because that's who you are inside. You fight for good. You've always been the Boy Scout. You wouldn't have devised some grand scheme to annihilate the world's evil at the cost of good people."

Sam stared into Dean's earnest face and didn't have the heart to say that his brother's high-minded view of him was flawed. He wouldn't have gone the way of Piruz, of course, but he would have forsaken the Brotherhood in a heartbeat back then. He couldn't have gone on without Dean, because it was Dean's unswerving desire to save people that ignited the fire in his own heart. He needed Dean's passion to save people, and Dean needed his reason and logic. Instead of debating the point, he smiled and said, "I was never a Boy Scout. I believe it was you who was enamored of boy groups. You were a Wolf Cub."

Dean scowled. "I was not. I got kicked out before the first meeting even finished."

"They were stupid to let you," Sam quipped, pushing himself up and onto his feet. "Why don't you get a shower, then I can bandage that leg again."

Dean glanced down at the dried blood on his jeans. Sighing, he inched himself up. "Yeah, okay." Watching Sam go and fish the first aid kit out of his duffel, he said, "I know you think you wouldn't have come back to the Brotherhood if I'd stayed dead."

Sam stilled, the kit clenched in his hand.

"But I do know you, Sammy. You would have come back, and you would still have been the best Scholar the Brotherhood has ever seen, even if Elijah was Guardian. Logical and realistic as you are in that lawyer brain of yours, you're a good man who wants good for others. That's just who you are." Turning, Dean limped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Sam couldn't take his eyes off the bathroom door for several minutes as he listened to the water in the shower go on, and then the sounds of splashing. He'd never know if he would truly have gone back to the Brotherhood if Dean had remained dead. In the four months his brother was gone he'd felt a desolation so black and dark, he couldn't see beyond the pain. The old adage that time heals all wounds was likely true. He'd survived after their father's death, had survived Jessica's so many years ago. He'd survived Pastor Jim's and Mac's deaths as well. But Dean's death was in a category all its own, and he couldn't be confident that he would have survived it in as valiant a manner as Dean seemed to think he would. With a sigh, he dropped onto his bed to wait for his turn in the shower, more thankful than he could ever express that he hadn't had to find out.

* * *

Mandy worked at this front desk of the Homewood Suites. If she had to work in the customer service industry, a Hilton property was one of the best places. While she was somewhat bored, the Homewood was a nice, clean place with decent management. She could do worse.

"Thank you, Mr. Walford," Mandy said, handing over the receipt for the two-night stay. "We look forward to seeing you again."

"You should have smiled bigger."

Mandy rolled her eyes as she watched the portly man exit through the double front doors. Her manager, Cindy Wilson walked back into her office and gave the door a small shove closed. It didn't latch all the way, and a small two-inch gap remained. Mandy knew that was so Cindy could watch her through the door. The _didn't quite get the door closed_ gag had stopped working months ago.

Ashley from housekeeping walked over to the reception desk and leaned one elbow on the counter. "Door ajar, huh?"

Mandy rolled her eyes. "She thinks she's so subtle."

Ashley chuckled. "We could clue her in…"

"And loose our advantage?" Mandy snorted. "Not likely."

"What advantage?" asked a male voice.

Mandy didn't bother turning around as Jose came through a side door that led to and from the maintenance offices. She continued sorting through the receipts of those checking out this morning. Picking up a slip of paper, she handed it across to Ashley and said, "Tell the staff not to clean these rooms. They've checked in for another day, and there's a Do Not Disturb request."

Ashley nodded, watching Mandy studiously ignoring Jose while Jose merely stood there waiting for a reply. Finally, she explained simply, "The door."

"Ah," Jose said, backing off and taking a step away from the counter. He sifted through the papers from his in-box and sighed. "Damn toilet again on two. What's up with the darn thing this time?" Turning, he went back through the side door.

Mandy snorted again, then quickly straightened as a tall man with a petite woman walked off the elevator. Approaching the desk, he handed over his keycard. "I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Oehmann." She had learned long ago not to ask about the stay; merely assume their stay was terrific. When Mr. Oehmann merely grunted, she gave him a big smile as she handed over the receipt for his records. "I hope to see you again!"

As the Oehmann's walked to the door, Mandy could overhear their bickering.

"Man, people as so ultra lately," Ashley stated, watching the couple disappeared through the front doors. With a sigh, she turned and walked down the first floor corridor to the service closet.

Mandy heard the door behind her creak slightly, and rolled her eyes again. She had no idea why, but she felt irritation and anger well up inside. So Cindy thought she needed to keep an eye on her at all times, despite her being a model employee? Well, she'd show her what untrustworthy looked like. Walking to register, she hit some keys and printed another receipt, using the sound of the printer to mask her opening the register. Lifting out two fifty dollar bills, she slid them down the front of her sweater. Shutting the till door quietly, she bent and snatched the pages she'd printed from the tray and returned to her station. A feeling of elation trilled through her body. The elevator doors slid open again as she grinned. That had been so easy and so thrilling. She had no idea why she hadn't done that before, but she definitely planned on doing it again. "Morning, Ms. Riggins. I hope your stay was amazing."

* * *

Sam woke slowly. Fumbling for his cell, he squinted in the dark room to check the time. It was almost noon. He'd been asleep for four hours. Glancing over at the other bed, he could hear the deep, even breaths indicating that Dean was still asleep. He wished he were sleeping that soundly. Rolling onto his back with a sigh, he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts on Piruz. The encounter had been eye-opening in many regards, not the least of which was the sincerity of Piruz's belief that if they helped as Knights of some sort, the loss of life would be lessened. It explained why so many on the police force hadn't been adversely affected by the outbreaks of violence in the various cities. Did Piruz somehow temper the boxes to exclude Knights, or officers, as was the case in this era? No, that didn't make sense. He supposed that those who dedicated themselves to the protection of others probably had a stronger moral sense, and were more able to resist the pull of the Tree.

The Tree.

He wanted to see this Tree that was the stuff of mythical legend. Frowning, he wondered how Piruz had found out about its existence in the first place. One of the legendary libraries, most likely: Alexandria, Pergamum, maybe even one as old as the Library of Ashurbanipal which legend dated back to the seventh century BC. He knew of eight ancient libraries that had been lost through the ages. Likely there were even more. So much knowledge, exploration and records of human achievements and discoveries had been lost through time. For all intents and purposes, they lived today in a relatively uneducated world, for all their supposed knowledge. But if Piruz was as old as he claimed, the wealth of knowledge he had been exposed to would have been vast, enough to satiate the most ravenous thirst. Sam felt a thrill of excitement for the endless possibilities. What amazing discoveries could Piruz reveal? What knowledge could he pass on if only he would set aside his quest for vengeance?

"What are you thinking about?"

Sam looked over to see Dean blinking sleepily at him. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"I know," Dean grunted softly, shifting onto his side, then grimacing as his leg pulled. "But your big brain woke me up."

Sam snorted softly at the absurdity. Noting the pain reflected on his brother's face, he said, "Why don't you let Onida heal your leg?"

"I don't want to get used to her being there to make every pain go away. Sometimes you just got to suck it up."

"You would insist she heal me," Sam stated, a well-worn counter in an argument that had endured for years and would never be resolved or won.

Dean merely smiled, declining to get into it because he knew Sam had a good point. "What were you thinking about?"

Sam let the topic drop for now. "Joshua showed me the Chaos spell yesterday."

Dean knew Sam wasn't revealing what he'd really been thinking about, and said so. "That's not what you were thinking about," he frowned, "and there's an actual drawing of the spell?"

Sam nodded. "It has a center point, then arrows shooting out from the center in all directions."

"Oh." Dean covered a yawn. "So, what were you thinking about?"

Like a dog with a bone, Sam grumbled internally. "I was thinking of how Piruz found out about the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It's not like the events of the Old Testament were common knowledge. Oral histories were the norm for centuries. Most people couldn't read or write. When would the story of Eden have been written down? Who would even have told the tale? Maybe one of Adam's descendants told someone. Scholars and priests studied and recorded knowledge. The oldest language we know about is Sumerian, and that dates back to 3500 BC. I mean, there was probably writing further back than we know since the Library of Ashurbanipal was dated back to the seventh century BC. There were probably ancient parchments and tablets there, since we've found examples of cuneiform that date back to the fourth century BC. To think that Piruz probably studied in those ancient repositories of knowledge… It's mind boggling."

Dean yawned again and rolled his eyes. Why had he asked?

Sam's enthusiasm was in full swing as he talked about all the knowledge lost through the ages, about libraries that no longer existed, and the history that had happened about which they knew nothing. "Most of the oldest libraries in the world were all created in the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. Of course, the oldest library still in existence is St. Catherine's Monastic Library, which was founded in five hundred and sixty-five AD. It's second only to the Vatican Library in preserving the largest collection of early manuscripts and codices in the world..."

"So, the chaos spell has a diagram?" Dean interrupted.

Sam grinned. Best way to get a dog to drop the bone was to bore him. "Yeah. It has a center point, then arrows shooting out in all directions."

"Interesting."

"Yeah. It led me and Joshua to wonder why Piruz was making a circle. We figured he was keeping the spell contained to the States for the moment, so he could establish some sort of control here."

That got Dean's attention. "Control, like…"

"Being the ruler, maybe? I mean, after the spell creates chaos, someone will need to step in and establish order. I suppose he plans on being that person."

Slowly Dean nodded.

"Since we know Piruz isn't using a wand to make his circle, we figure he's linking the spell through the boxes, which have been infused with his own magic..."

"He can do that to cocobolo wood?" Dean exclaimed, incredulous. "I thought cocobolo wood was Superman."

Sam grinned at the analogy. "Even Superman has his kryptonite. Joshua figures it would have taken him a very long time to get his magic infused into the wood. When he finishes laying all the boxes, he'll go back to the center and finish the spell."

Dean shoved himself up on his elbow. "So we should be heading for the center."

Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah, that's what we figured. Joshua thinks there might already be a tree growing in the center spot. When Piruz goes back there, he'll link the north, south, east and west boxes to the tree and that will break set off the spell. It will be mass chaos after that. Remember when we looked up the news reports yesterday? There's already heightened levels of violence across the country, and its growing. Once the spell is complete, there'll be a whole lot more."

"If there's already a tree growing in the center, why isn't there violence there too?"

"Remember Joshua saying Odette told him a coven from the Midwest was missing? Maybe Piruz is using the coven somehow to contain The Chaos Tree."

"Do you think they're alive?"

"I don't know; I hope so."

Dean nodded, thinking. "If this guy is using the boxes to link the spell, he doesn't need his blood or a sacrifice, right?"

Sam nodded.

"So he's going to plant his boxes in New York, then head directly for Lebanon Kansas."

Sam looked startled. "How did you know Lebanon Kansas was the center of the United States?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam," he said with exaggerated patience. "We've driven through Lebanon how many times over the years? There's a big sign going into the town saying it's the center of the forty-eight states."

"There is?"

Chuckling, Dean pushed himself up. "What time is it?"

Sam lifted his cell. "Uh, twelve-thirty-five."

"We need to get going."

"We're going to Lebanon?"

"No, not everyone. You, me and Caleb are going to New York. Everyone else is going to Lebanon."

Sam sat up. "Why?"

"We're going to piss the hell out of Piruz so Josh has time to create a brand new spell; one that will send the Chaos Tree back to the Garden of Eden."

Sam goggled. "How's he supposed to do that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. That's why Josh is doing it and not me." Turning, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Oh, Joshua's really going to love this," Sam muttered.

* * *

"I'm going to what?" Joshua exclaimed.

It was only Joshua, Caleb, Dean and Sam sitting in the conference room of the Homewood Suites. While Caleb hadn't reserved it for the day, no one else had either, so the hotel manager said they could use it for some privacy.

"You're going to create a new spell using all that Crafter and Triad magical knowledge, one that will suck the Chaos Tree and all the boxes back into the Garden of Eden," Dean repeated.

Caleb was staring at the table, trying not to laugh at the impossible task Dean had just set for Joshua. Sam was trying to look encouraging, and mostly failing.

"I don't know how to do that!" Joshua spat, trying to keep his voice calm and cool, and like Sam, failing.

Dean leaned forward, eyes on their Advisor. "There's a way into Eden. Piruz found it, and he found it when he was young because he escaped the flood. I'm thinking he escaped into Eden, because there was nowhere on the earth that wasn't covered with water." He glanced at Caleb and Sam, who were watching him opened mouthed. "Pastor Jim did more than one sermon on the flood." Neither said anything. "You were both there!"

Caleb gave a soft snort of amusement and got up to refill his coffee.

Joshua was still focused on the spell he was supposed to create out of nothing. "But, but I don't know how he did it!"

"If he can do it, so can you," Dean stated confidently. "And we've got Merlin on our side; Triad magic."

Sam decided to try and throw their Advisor a lifeline. "Maybe create something similar to the Triad spell you guys did to get me out of the cage. It's creating an opening between two spaces that shouldn't touch."

Joshua sighed.

"I'm sorry to throw this at you," Dean said sincerely. "But you're the only one who can stop the Tree and the boxes from being in a place they shouldn't."

"Don't you have to eat of the tree to get the knowledge?" Caleb asked suddenly.

"Adam already did that back in the Garden," Sam relayed. "He bit the fruit and knowledge of sin, previously unknown, entered the human race through him and his descendants … which is all of us."

"I understand that something needs to be done," Joshua said, "But my place is with you."

"Agreed. But right now, this is more important," Dean stated. "You're our ace in the hole. We might be able to take out Piruz, and if we do the Chaos Spell will die with him. But if you can't come up with a spell to get the Tree out of our dimension, society will collapse anyway. If you can't do it, no one can. Your knowledge of Triad magic is greater than any other Advisor in Brotherhood history."

Joshua gave Dean a sardonic look.

"All right," Dean corrected, "So Malachi Harris probably knew the most. But he was evil so he doesn't count."

Joshua gave a long suffering sigh. "What about you?"

"All we're going to do is buy you some time. Once we kick Piruz around a bit, we'll meet up with you in Lebanon."

"Then Adam is going with you." Before Dean could voice his objection, Joshua continued, "You need a crafter, someone who knows magic to watch your backs."

"Adam can't do what you did the other night," Dean stated.

"No, he can't. That was Triad magic. But he can do other things. He's very gifted. I want someone I trust with you."

Dean finally nodded. "Fine, but I better not hear one word against Baby."

* * *

"No," Onida stated, standing defiantly with her hands on her hips. "Absolutely not. I'm going with you."

Caleb sighed. "All we're going to do is irritate Piruz some, see about slowing him down. If you can offer any help to Josh with your knowledge of elements and energy, he's going to need it to create this spell."

"I don't like it. What if you get hurt?"

"We're all wearing the spell bags that protect against Chaos messing with our brain functions," Caleb said, showing her the small bag tucked into his shirt. "And Adam will make us some cloaking spell bags like the ones JT and Max used in Washington last year. Dean and Sam have got my back; I'll be fine."

Onida's shoulders slumped suddenly. "I don't want you to go where I'm not."

Caleb smiled and pulled her into his arms. "I'll be back to you within a day and a half, and I expect Joshua's potion to be brilliant with your help."

"I don't know magic."

"You know the earth. If there's anything within the earth at the center of the forty-eight states, you'll know it, and I'm betting there's a geographical anomaly right there in Lebanon."

"If there is, I'll find it," Onida vowed.

I know it." Caleb picked up their duffels and held out his hand. "Come on," he said, and they headed for the door.

Down in the parking lot, Raylan and Daniel were flipping a coin to see who got to drive the Tourer first, and who would follow in Daniel's truck. Joshua and Adam were talking intently nearby.

Dean walked up to Joshua just as Adam stepped away and headed for the Impala. Handing Joshua a note, he said, "This will help."

Frowning, Joshua said, "Should I open it now?"

"In the van. It's something Pastor Jim said a couple nights ago. It might be the key to your spell."

Joshua nodded.

Grasping his Advisor by the forearm, Dean squeezed and said, "Good luck. I _know_ you can do it," before he turned and headed back to the Impala.

Sam walked over and said, "I've got my laptop. If you need any research, call."

"I will."

Hesitating for a brief moment, Sam said, "Dean wouldn't have asked you to create a spell like this if he didn't believe one hundred percent that you could do it. He would have figured out something else. So please do it, cause I don't want a Dean seat-of-your-pants solution. Not that those don't usually work." Both men laughed. Leaning in, Sam said earnestly, "I know you can do it too." Turning, Sam walked off and got into the back seat of the Impala.

Caleb said goodbye to Onida and helped her into the Tourer. Giving her a wave, he turned to Joshua. Holding out a hand, he grasped Joshua's and said, "I'm going to miss you with us today, but I believe in you. Don't think about this being The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, don't think about breaching Eden. Just think about taking something that shouldn't be here and sending it home." Giving Joshua's hand a tight squeeze, he said, "Watch out for Onida, and I'll see you in Lebanon."

Joshua watched Caleb climb into the front seat of the Impala, heard the revving of the powerful engine and watched his Triad drive away. Never had he felt so lost.

"Come on."

Joshua looked around and saw Onida smiling at him. Giving her a nod, he climbed into the Tourer, retaking his seat at the back.

"All aboard?" Raylan called. Having won the coin toss, he was grinning as he eyed Onida and Joshua.

"We're set," Joshua said. Picking up his computer, his notebook and a legal pad, he murmured, "Yes, we're set." Pulling Dean's note from his pocket, he opened it and read, _Pastor Jim knew you were a talented Crafter from the moment he spent time with you at the farm. You were thirteen. He knew you would be an outstanding Advisor to the Brotherhood, and he knew Triad Magic would be safe in your hands. Pastor Jim told me 'Strength through generations.' I know his words were meant for you. See you in Lebanon. Dean_

Joshua read the note through twice more before he nodded. "Okay," he murmured under his breath, "let's see what Triad Magic can do."

* * *

_1248 AD_

In the years since Merlin had passed away, Piruz worked on perfecting a way to control the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It was strange, but he missed the old mage. Though they had profoundly disagreed on his plan to eliminate evil from the world, he had felt some succor from knowing Merlin was there working his magic to help people and stabilize kingdoms. It had not been his path, but until all evil was eliminated, it was a decent path. The mage had lived a good, long life, and the world felt poorer for his absence.

After his first meeting with Merlin, it had taken him a very long time to track down Berthot of Netherese, the creator of the Chaos Spell. It took even longer to access the man's knowledge, as his understanding of Latin was rustic, at best. But when he was able to make his intent known, Berthot had been flattered and eager to help. He freely shared knowledge as had the dark wizards of Petra. He taught Piruz how to harness the Chaos Spell, how to bend it to his will using his body, speech and the tools of the trade: a disc of bronze and a small iron rod.

In its origination, the Chaos Spell caused a creature or person to be subject to chaotic effects. Those who were unable to resist would become confused or even attack the creature or person closest to them. Those under the influence of the spell would see their attacker as an enemy. The duration, range and scale of the spell were determined by the power of the caster. Only the very powerful could resist chaos. Under Berthot's tutelage, he had practiced the spell on numerous creatures before moving on to test his prowess on humans. However, when he wanted to test whether a human would kill under the influence of chaos, even Berthot had balked. Thus, he had taken his leave to continue his research alone.

Merlin had thwarted his first human trial with the Tree. Yet through his burning anger, he had been able to see a crucial element: he couldn't control the Tree, not even with the Chaos Spell. Merlin had controlled the Tree, and if he'd thought for one moment the mage would tell him, he would have dogged his steps till his dying day. But Merlin would never have revealed that knowledge. Therefore he'd needed to find the control on his own. Thus, he'd devised his plan.

First, he needed control. He had painstakingly attempted spell after spell, searching libraries and the most noted minds, then mining the farthest reaches of the world and the dankest corners of dark magical societies to find a way to control the Tree. None were very successful. Eventually he'd found his answer in the blackest of dark cities; Mayong India. Called the Land of Black Magic, a witch sitting in a dingy alley gave him the clue for which he'd been searching.

The moment he'd walked into the alley, he could smell the rank odor of old spices and potions wafting between the stone buildings. Before Piruz even spoke, she said; "কন্ট্রোল কেস ফ্রম উইথিং." _(Control comes from within.) _He hadn't understood a word. Did this woman speak any other language? "من نمی فهمم. تو فارسی بلدی؟? _(I do not understand. Do you speak_ _Persian_)? தமிழ்? (_Tamil_)?" Sighing, he shook his head, "Latine?"

The witch gave a cackling laugh, lifted her pipe to her lips and began puffing.

Piruz looked around, before he eventually lowered himself to the ground and sat beside the woman. For some reason he knew she was the one to answer his question. He had been around for generations, and was not fooled by outward appearances. He could feel her power, and he could wait for the answer. Someone would come along who could translate her language. He sat with her for five days before a man walked past, stopped and back tracked to the alley entrance. Frowning, he stepped slowly down the stone passage. He stared at the woman, then at Piruz. Finally, he asked the ancient woman, "ওহ ২ হে?" _(Who is he?)_

The woman shrugged.

Turning to Piruz, he looked him up and down before saying, "Qu'est-ce que vous voulez?" _(What do you want?)_

Piruz stood quickly. Frowning slightly, he said, "Parles-tu Latin?" _(Do you speak Latin?)_

The man nodded slowly. "Un peu." Shaking his head slightly, he amended, "A parum." _(A little.)_

Taking a deep breath, Piruz said slowly, "Femina dicitur aliquid magni momenti. I postulo scio. _(She said something important. I need to know.)_

The man looked uncertain. Glancing back down at the woman, he finally looked to Piruz again and said, "Ea tenebris. Certus es?" _(She is darkness. Are you certain?)_

Piruz merely nodded.

The man sighed. Turning to the woman, he said, "হে ওয়ান্টস তো কনো হোয়াট ইউ সেড. সৌল্ডা ইউ তেল হিঁ?" _(He wants to know what you said before. Should you tell him?)_

The woman merely shrugged, then said again, "কন্ট্রোল কেস ফ্রম উইথিং." _(Control comes from within.)_

The man looked to Piruz and said, "Imperium de intus est." After a moment, he repeated in French, "Le contrôle vient de l'intérieur."

Piruz looked down at the woman, then at the man standing in front of him. After a short length of time, he nodded. Turning to the woman, and bowed and said, "Yishar," in his native tongue, one he hadn't spoken in generations. _(Thank you.)_ He gave the man who'd helped him out a small bow and walked from the alley.

Looking down at the woman, the man said, "ওহ ওয়াস হে, গ্রান্ডমঠের? _(Who was he, grandmother?)_

"ডেথ," _(Death.)_

**.**

Since leaving the alley, Piruz traveled for the next few months through India, contemplating the old woman's words and their meaning. He was dining at a small inn in Surat India drinking Aam Pana, a sweetened mango juice that was served hot, when he finally got it: the only thing that could control the Tree was the Tree itself. Another few days were spent mulling that over until a plan came to him whereby he could use the seeds from the Tree to contain the Mother's strength and influence. Unfortunately, his glee in the discovery was short lived. Like the Tree and the Branches, when separated from their source, they would simply disappear and return. They were a vital part of the Tree, the very representations of good intentions and bad. Thus began the long process of finding a way to confine the seeds away from the tree and to infuse them with enough of his own magic that they would stay where they were placed.

It was in India that he first learned of cocobolo wood and its benefits in containing magical objects of considerable strength. Excited, he traveled to Tenochtitlan in the land of the Andes. In Tenochtitlan, he acquired the wood and began creating the boxes. After designing a pattern of intricate protections and magical sigils - knowledge learned over his long life of learning - he hired two indigenous artists to carve those designs on the box lids. Unfortunately, during his spell trials, even the cocobolo wood would not keep the seeds confined for long, and too soon the seeds would return to the Tree. Frustrated, he knew he needed to make the seeds loyal to him rather than the Tree, at least for the length of time needed for the Chaos Spell to work. After several months of work, he found that infusing the seeds with his magic was an impossible task. The only solution left was to infuse the cocobolo wood with his magic.

He spent months working to infuse the stubborn wood with his own magic. Months turned into years before he was able to perfect his talismans. Then finally, he was ready to experiment again. It had taken centuries of work, but he had managed to complete the spell. The center of the spell was the Tree. Circling the geographical location of his country of choice were his magic infused box of seeds. As long as he controlled the center, he controlled all.

* * *

_Present day_

Dean focused on the road, though he allowed his mind to wander. New York was a large city, and he didn't know where Piruz would go. The Big Apple was the best city to get lost in, and there were hundreds of clubs and bars where he could hid his boxes. Maybe the correct path was to call Piruz out like he'd called them out. They weren't focused on trying to stop him from planting the boxes anymore; they really couldn't stop him. But they could hurt him, divert him, slow him down.

Caleb was staring out the side window, watching the scenery flash by. Dean knew he was thinking about Onida, that she wasn't with him, and what would happen if Piruz went to Lebanon and they weren't there.

"She'll be all right."

Caleb looked around. "Yeah, I know. But I can't help worrying."

Dean merely nodded. His gaze went to the rear view mirror, where Sam and Adam had their heads bent over a pad of paper and Sam's laptop. He knew they were searching for spells to help Joshua. For some reason Dean knew there weren't any. That was the reason Pastor Jim had spoken to him. This was a spell Joshua would need to create for himself. "How are we going to call out Piruz?"

Caleb glanced over again, and tapped his head. "Psychic signal should do it. You got a place in mind to meet?"

"What about Freshkills Park?" Sam called from the back seat. "It was a former landfill." Dean and Caleb eyed him from the front seat. "Seems appropriate," Sam shrugged. "Plus it gets him away from New York because it's in Staten Island."

"The name should get his attention," Adam added.

"Freshkills Park it is," Dean agreed.

Caleb glanced at his watch. "It's a seven and a half hour drive. We should arrive in New York close to nine tonight."

"Piruz likes to hit the clubs closer to eleven."

"If we can't hurt him, we can at least slow him down," Caleb said. "I let him know about an hour before we get there; give him time to find the park and meet us."

"I've got spell pouches already made," Adam said. He felt a little awkward coming along with the Triad of the Brotherhood, especially when Joshua wasn't around. Sure, he'd worked with these men last year in Washington on the Yakama Indian Reservation, and he'd been a frequent guest at Dean's and Caleb's during the past year. But all those times had been in the company of Joshua. Now, riding in the car with these men, he felt a bit out of place.

Feeling Adam's unease, Caleb turned around and asked, "What kind of spells are they? Anything stronger than what we used the other night?"

Adam nodded. "I made several of them stronger. This witch is very talented. I came at them from the position that he would be cloaking himself for protection. While the first hit shouldn't cause damage, continual hits _will_ breach his defenses."

Caleb grinned. "Excellent."

"I am also talented in spells of misdirection and obfuscation. I can use those to make him look in other directions, make him look where you're not." Swallowing, Adam confessed tersely, "I don't have Joshua's power, but you'll have everything I've got."

Caleb turned around and said sincerely, "We appreciate you're being here, and we're grateful for everything you'll do tonight. And don't worry, we've got your back."

Adam relaxed and smiled. "I was counting on it."

* * *

Piruz drove into New York City, his eyes darting every which direction. While the west coast of the country was big and spread out, New York was tall, very tall. He had always been taken with how tall Petra's structures were, how they were built into the very fabric of the mountain side. New York structures were massive. They were clustered and packed together, crowding the streets. He wanted to get out and walk, to view the city, to see the sights and stop at the merchants lining the streets. In such ways, New York was very much like Petra.

Though he found the sights intriguing, driving through the downtown streets of New York was an exercise in frustration. Quickly he peeled off and went further from the hustle and bustle of that area toward the outer edges. It wasn't long before he saw a small house that had the familiar words _Bed and Breakfast_. Pulling into the drive, he maneuvered along the side of the house until he reached the back, where other vehicles were parked. It would be a long drive back to the center, but he'd made good time. He still had almost two days to finish the spell. All he needed to do was plant the boxes here, get a few hours sleep, and return to the road.

He knew Merlin's Warriors would try to stop him here. They did not know that this city was only the last waystation on his plan, that the spell would be finished elsewhere. So they would meet again. He was sorry the Warrior with the blade would not be present, if he even remained alive. In both their last encounters he had been a worthy adversary in battle. He wanted to know how he'd countered all his spells, wanted to know about the blade he'd used. But, he'd chosen to sacrifice that knowledge to end the assault. Now he would deal with Merlin's Child and the Teacher.

Exiting his vehicle, he walked into the beautiful house and was greeted by a smiling attendant who welcomed him into their home. Yes, while there were many things he missed about the places of his youth, there were many more things he loved about the time he planned on ruling.

He was escorted to a room on the second floor, one that was elegantly furnished. He'd learned that young persons who carried your luggage to a room were compensated with something called a tip. He didn't understand this practice, as he supposed the attendants received a wage from the establishment for their work. However, he tendered some bills to the young man and closed the door. He had just reached the bed when a sharp pain went through his head. Stumbling, he went to his knees.

_Hey, Piruz… Did you think I was dead? Think again…_

Piruz frowned. The voice was in his head, but he knew this was the Warrior with the blade. How had he survived his potion? It was one of the first he'd perfected when he was young, the one he'd used on hired servants when he took his family's cloths to market in Petra. He knew it worked. The bodies he'd buried along the route testified to that.

_Hel-lo… …_

_Quid vis?!_

_Audi iterum; et veniet ludere_. _(Listen again; come out and play.)_

A picture of a large open space entered Piruz's head, then faded away.

Struggling to his feet, Piruz threw his duffel onto the bed and shouted, "Maledicit!" The potion thrown at the Warrior was meant to take him to the brink of death. How had he recovered so quickly? Growling, he paced the plush bedroom, thinking. The Warrior had survived and recovered. The mystery of how this was so would need to be set aside for the moment. Now was the time for a revised plan. Merlin's Warriors knew he was in New York; he'd had already known that. But where they here already? He suspected not. His plan for the night had not included dealing with all three of Merlin's Warriors. Thus, he would slow their approach, allowing him time to place his boxes before their arrival. Stepping to his case, he placed it atop the bed. Lifting the lid, he unpacked a heavy stone bowl, a bronze plate and a silver pistil. Next he pulled several boxes of herbs, spices and extracts. If Merlin's Warriors thought to interfere with his plans, then he would also interfere with theirs.

* * *

Caleb walked into the convenience store for four coffees. They'd been driving for six and a half hours and Dean wanted to stop for gas before they got closer to New York. He didn't plan on refueling again until their work tonight was done and they were well on their way to Kansas. Inside, he picked up a few packets of nuts, some jerky, power bars for Sam and maybe Adam, four waters and four cups of coffee.

He was returning to the car when he heard the voice.

_Ego beatos vos etiam._ _(I can call you as well.)_

Piruz wasn't inside his head; Caleb was too good for that. But somehow through the air, the wizard projected his voice. Glancing around, no one nearby seemed to have heard anything. Interesting. Lengthening his stride, he thought back, _Tibi bonum est._ _(Good for you.)_

Sam frowned and looked over his shoulder. He and Adam were standing near the car, stretching their legs. As soon as he saw Caleb's face he shoved Adam back into the car and ran around to Dean, who was pulling the nozzle of the hose from the Impala's tank.

_Non erit tibi felix, Bellator._ _(You will not be successful, Warrior.)_

_If you want to rule this world, you need to learn English._ There was silence. Caleb thought again, _Discere Anglicus, (Learn English)_.

Dean had the car idling as Caleb practically tossed the bottles and food through the passenger door and climbed inside, balancing the coffees.

"Go, go, go!" Caleb shouted. "I have a feeling Piruz isn't remotely pleased I'm not dead!"

Dean rammed his foot onto the gas pedal and peeled out of the Pilot Truck Stop. The Impala was screaming down the frontage road just as a wave of energy slammed into the driver's side of the car. If he hadn't had such a tight grip on the wheel, the Impala would have slid right off the road into the ditch running alongside.

"What did he say?" Sam asked, his fingers clenched on the front seat.

"Said we wouldn't be successful," Caleb stated, gripping the door handle as the Impala swayed to the left, dodging another wave of energy.

"Yada, yada, yada," Dean muttered.

A tree from the side of the road uprooted itself and sailed in their direction. Dean jerked the wheel, narrowly missing the massive roots and trunk.

"Did he talk to you psychically?" Sam asked.

"No," Caleb said, bracing himself against the car door as Dean swung the Impala to the left. "More like when he talked to Dean at the gas station; magically."

Adam jerked around and looked out the back window, watching as the tree narrowly missed an SUV and a sedan. "There are other cars on the road. Aren't people frightened? Won't they call the police?"

"Most people won't call the police," Sam said, his eyes on the road ahead. "They'll come up with a logical explanation."

"Oh?" Adam said, turning back around. "Like what?"

"A Dust Devil," Caleb said. Being from the Midwest, tornados were a common occurrence.

Dean veered the car to the right again, narrowly avoiding a bolt of energy that would have surely dented the frame. "Can't you two gang up on him, somehow? Give him the whammy?"

"The whammy?" Caleb scoffed, hitting the door hard as Dean swerved to the right.

"Against magic?" Sam said on a yelp as the car careened to the right.

"Use your Darth Vader grip with Sam's help." Dean swung the car into oncoming traffic as another blast of energy exploded on the right side of the car. Unfortunately, a sixteen wheeler was coming directly at them. "He has to think to do magic, right?"

"Dean!" exclaimed Adam.

Dean merely grunted, jerking the wheel even further to the left. The car slid down the left shoulder of the road, tires churning dirt and debris in its wake. The sixteen-wheeler screamed by on their right, horn blaring the entire time. Muscling the car back onto the road and into the correct lane, Dean suddenly spun the wheel into a screeching right turn, careening down a road leading away from the highway.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, hanging onto the seat for dear life.

"Where there may not be other cars," Dean said just as two trucks and three SUVs drove past.

"Good thinking," Caleb muttered.

Dean glared in his direction. "Do something!"

Caleb huffed and turned around toward Sam. "Okay, how about showing this guy what the Knight and the Scholar of the Triad can do?"

Sam eyed Caleb warily. "Like what?"

"Like Darth Vader and Alastair all at once."

Sam gulped. He hated what he'd done to Alastair.

Another wave of energy slammed the Impala, denting the driver's side door.

"Son of a…" Dean exclaimed. "He damaged my Baby!" Glancing out the rear view mirror, his eyes widened as a large commercial truck came barreling toward them. "Damn it," he muttered, jamming the gas pedal to the floor.

The truck slammed into the rear of the Impala, causing it to skid forward. Only Dean's increase in speed kept them from being hit harder. "Anytime, gentlemen."

Sam nodded, and he and Caleb closed their eyes as Adam watched.

Keeping an eye on the truck, Dean was relieved to see the large vehicle growing smaller in the rear view. Gaze sliding to Adam, he said, "Don't worry. They'll take care of him."

Frowning, Adam asked, "How?"

Dean tapped his head, then quickly grabbed the wheel as a fire hydrant flew through the air, headed directly for the front windshield. "Son of a…" he muttered, slamming his foot on the break while simultaneously jerking the wheel to the right. Caleb slammed backward into the dashboard while Sam and Adam hit the front seats. Dean reached out and grasped Caleb's shirt, pulling him forward.

"Ouch," Caleb drawled slowly, rubbing at his shoulders, aching from having collided with the dash.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked, massaging his neck gingerly.

Caleb growled. "No. That bitch is going down." Grasping Sam's arms, he closed his eyes and focused.

Sam followed suit, concentrating on adding his strength to Caleb's.

A bruise was rising on Adam's forehead from being slammed into the front seat, and his neck ached from whiplash. When this was all over, he planned on staying home … maybe forever.

Dean touched lightly on the brakes and spun his car around to face the direction they'd come, causing the car behind them to sound its horn. Pressing again on the gas pedal, he headed back to the Interstate.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked.

"This guy thinks he can get us off his tail." Jerking his head toward Caleb and Sam, he continued, "He's got another thing coming."

Caleb focused on finding Piruz, on where he was at. He'd felt his essence in New York already. He wasn't as good at finding people he didn't know. But he knew the essence of Piruz, his age, his power. That's what he sought. He could feel Sam's energy and power, such immense power lurking just behind him. He knew the instant Piruz felt them coming. The wizard was, after all, using his own abilities - enhanced by magic - to attack them. Yet instead of attacking Piruz directly, he took a page out of Dean's book and threw up a giant mental shield. He felt Piruz's power slam against it and rebound.

_Sam_, he thought. _Hold the shield_.

Once Sam was holding onto the shield, Caleb went around the barrier. While choking Piruz would be cathartic after the bastard had almost killed him, he instead took inspiration from Onida and went for the hypothalamus at the base of the brain near the pituitary gland. Focusing hard, he concentrated on putting pressure there. If he did it right, Piruz's temperature would rise and his blood pressure would fluctuate. Hopefully, he would lose consciousness and the attack would cease.

Sam felt Piruz falter and fight, driving energy upon energy at his shield while attempting to dislodge Caleb. Finally, Piruz hurled a particularly potent measure of energy at the shield and backed away, slamming the door in his wake.

Caleb dropped back nearly onto the floor of the Impala, his forehead against the front seat.

"Damien!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his arm across Caleb's back to prevent him from falling onto the floor.

"He's … okay," Sam panted, his head back against the rear seat, eyes closed and panting.

"Are you?" Dean asked, turning back onto the frontage road and speeding toward the Interstate on ramp.

"Pretty much," Sam said on an exhale. "Headache."

"Damien, are you in there?"

There was a moment of silence, before Caleb murmured, "Yeah, fine." Slowly he shifted until he was sitting properly in the front seat. Chuckling wearily, he said, "I don't think he liked that one bit."

Sam smiled. "Nope, I think he's mad as hell."

* * *

Piruz opened his eyes to find himself staring up at the ceiling. Frowning, he looked around. He was in the bedroom he'd acquired in the Bed and Breakfast home. Suddenly he remembered being attacked by two of Merlin's Warriors and his face twisted in fury. The Scholar, the Teacher _was_ a Seer. Instead of one Seer in his trio of Warriors, _this_ incarnation of Merlin's protectors had two. Shoving himself to his knees, he climbed to his feet. Impudent children playing with power they knew so little about. Yes, they were powerful, but what he knew had taken millennia to gain. If they wanted to take him on, he would show them all he had learned since meeting up with Merlin so many centuries ago. Though these be Merlin's legacy, he would tolerate their interference no longer. He couldn't afford the distraction. No more would he coddle them, no more would he give them his tolerance in Merlin's name.

Pulling out herbs from his store, he made a potion to restore his strength and give him peace. He would need that peace and rest before taking them on this night. They wanted to meet at a place called Freshkills Park? Maybe he would make sure they stayed there forever.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_The old woman in the alley is speaks Assamese – Spoken in Medieval Mayong India_

_Thank you all so much again for posting reviews. They're wonderful connections to letting me know you're reading and enjoying this story. I appreciate it!_

_**summerb7l21** re: last review - I so get that! lol At least you know the story has been written and will get up on the site. Since we're quarantined, I've been trying to get the chapters up quicker. Guess everyone else is playing online too, cause my Internet connection has been so slow and spotty, its been a challenge. But hang in there!_


	19. Chapter 19

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 19

.

Joshua stretched as he leaned back against the seat of the Tourer. The drive between Raleigh North Carolina and Lebanon Kansas was not a short one: a lengthy twenty hours. Dean and Sam might be used to driving for hours on end, but Joshua wasn't, and he didn't want to get used to it either. Despite the relative comfort of the Tourer – for which he was grateful – he was tired, cramped and in desperate need of a walk.

The drive was made longer, not only by the stretching, food and fuel stops, but with the dozens of vehicle wrecks along the highways and interstates. On one occasion Daniel had careened to the side of the road and jumped out just in time to stop a man from beating another driver to a pulp. Raylan, following behind in Daniel's truck, had rushed to help. They'd only been able to get back on the road when highway patrol came to take over. Also encountered were fights at gas stations, though in most cases numerous pumps were available for fueling use. The delays were endless and frustrating. Tension was definitely in the air, and increased their feelings of stress and weariness.

When night rolled around, they were all exhausted after eight and a half hours on the road. They opted out of staying the night in a hotel after Joshua pointed out that by veering slightly north, they could sleep in Louisville, which would add only a half hour to their trip. It was a decision with which Onida wholeheartedly agreed. Going home would allow her to sleep in hers and Caleb's bed, as well as touch base with Juliet, whom she knew was missing Dean. Daniel and Raylan would spend the night at the Sherwood Inn. Most hunters visiting the Guardian had stayed there before, and it was well known and comfortable.

Glancing out the window, Joshua watched the mile signs looking for the US 75 West road marker. During his last phone call home, Nicholas had sounded rather subdued, and Joshua knew he was missing him. The child wasn't used to not seeing him for days, and he'd been gone three. He was going home.

Eyes on the blur of passing scenery, his thoughts went back to the problem he'd been tasked to solve; how to get the Tree back in its rightful place, and how to get all of its seeds positioned around the country to go along for the ride. It seemed an impossible task, but he'd taken Caleb's advice to heart: focus on moving a thing that doesn't belong here back to its home. Buoyed by Dean's words from Pastor Jim, he been documenting the basics of spells that move something from one place to another, then looking for spells that took things from one dimension to another, such as the one he'd used to bring Sam back from the Lucifer's box. However, there was one aspect of Piruz's circle around the country was niggling at him: the seeds. Why use the seeds as the circle? It would stand to reason that the seeds would be powerful, like the Tree. If they were being used in his spell, why mitigate their power by putting them in cocobolo wood boxes?

He looked down at his notes. The last hour had been spent researching the Tree itself. If he knew more about it, maybe that knowledge would help in writing the spell. Piruz had most likely had access to knowledge that was now lost, but could he have learned more than what the Bible contained? The Tree was in God's garden; God controlled the narrative. So while he'd searched through additional sources, his main focus had been on Genesis chapters two and three. So far, he didn't see how anything written there could help in the current dilemma.

Onida stirred, yawned and shifted slightly in her seat. Opening her eyes, she focused on Joshua. After watching him frown at his notes, she asked, "Do you need me to search for more information?"

Joshua looked up, then smiled. "No, I'm rereading the same passages again."

"Hoping to find something new?"

"Hoping to find more of an explanation," Joshua said, sighing as he leaned back in his chair.

"On why Piruz put the seeds in the boxes," Onida said. It was a subject they had returned to more than once.

Joshua nodded. "It seems counterproductive, though from your insight on the boxes, it looks like the seeds will get out eventually. So why bother in the first place? There has to be a reason."

"You said he would want control, so needed a circle of some sort to keep the Tree's influence here," Onida said for perhaps the fifth time. She knew they were going over the same ground again and again, but sometimes that's what it took for inspiration to strike.

Joshua sighed and lowered the screen on his laptop.

"You're tired," Onida said. "We need to give this a rest. Sometimes you can get…"

"Too close," Joshua completed the thought, nodding. "Yes."

The Tourer swung slightly right and Joshua looked up with a smile. Onida twisted around in her seat and grinned. "We're almost home."

"Home," Joshua murmured.

Raylan exited the freeway and drove down the streets of Louisville while Joshua packed away his notes and computer. When the bus turned into Joshua's drive, the front door was already open.

"Careful," Joshua admonished as a small boy raced down the front steps.

"Gotcha covered," Raylan said with a smile, slowing to a stop just barely into the drive.

"See you tomorrow," Joshua said to both Onida and Raylan as he opened the side door and was tackled by a gangly child with blond hair.

"Back," Nicholas breathed, clutching Joshua with strong, slender arms.

Joshua dropped his duffel and pulled up the child to his chest. "Oooh, it's so good to see you."

Nicholas just hugged harder, his legs linked around Joshua's waist.

Onida pulled the door open wider and stepped out onto the pavement. Turning, she picked up Joshua's duffel and computer bag, and started up the front steps where Carolyn and Josie were standing, grins on their faces.

"Hi, Onida," Carolyn said, stepping forward to take Joshua's luggage.

"Hi Carolyn," Onida said with a grin, then as she looked over at Joshua and Carolyn's daughter, she nodded, "Hey Josie."

"How are you, Aunt Onida," Josie called.

When Josie had first called Onida _aunt_, it had shocked and frightened her. To be fair, Josie had waited a whole three months before doing so, but hers and Caleb's relationship was still so new, that hearing someone address her so intimately had been a surprise. It was right after that she had gone to Washington alone, scaring Caleb into thinking she was regretting their relationship. In truth, she'd been overwhelmed with Josie calling her aunt, for her acceptance into this family. A family she had longed for since Marius' death and losing her own precious daughter.

Onida smiled. "I'm fine; ready to spend a night in my own bed. How come you're home? Don't you have classes?"

Josie's eyes went to Nicholas wrapped around her father and smiled. "Dad was gone longer this time. Nicholas really needs him around, you know? I told my teachers we had a family emergency and came home to help. Having me or Max around helps distract Nicky, especially Max, since he looks so much like dad."

"Max came too?"

Josie shook her head as Carolyn stepped up. "He plans on being here in the next day or so."

Carolyn gave Jocelyn's back a light rub, though her eyes were on Joshua and Nicholas. "At least by the weekend."

Onida glanced around before handing off Joshua's computer bag. "One more day, I think, and it should be over."

Carolyn sighed and nodded.

"It'll be okay, Mom," Josie said. "When Dad leaves tomorrow, Nicky and I will build a fort for us and the puppies. Maisie and Lucas can spend another night as well. We'll get through."

Joshua walked slowly up the steps, Nicholas in his arms. Smiling at Onida, he said, "Eight?"

"See you then," Onida nodded. After running a hand over Nicholas' soft blonde head, she waved at Carolyn and Josie and jogged back to the Tourer. Soon Raylan, Onida and Daniel, still following behind in his truck, had disappeared down the road.

* * *

The Impala's headlights cut through the streetlamp lit thoroughfare leading into Brooklyn. Though night, the streets were crowded, as always. But Dean was an expert at getting his muscle car through traffic, and he drove through the streets with ease.

"Anyone got cash?" Sam asked, fishing around in his own pockets.

"Oh," said Adam, reaching into his own pocket.

"What's the toll up to now?" Dean asked, smirking a little, as his driving the car had the benefit of keeping his money in his pocket.

"Seventeen dollars, I think," Sam said, pulling his computer back onto his lap and typing quickly. "Uh, yeah, crossing the Verrazano Narrows Bridge is now seventeen dollars one-way."

"Money gougers," Dean griped.

"What are you complaining about?" Caleb demanded, counting some ones and fives. "You're not fishing for your wallet."

"I'm driving," Dean declared loftily. "I need to watch where I'm going."

Sam snorted. "Like anyone on the road today is a challenge."

Since Dean had just executed a very neat lane change in front of a very aggressive cabbie, he merely smiled.

"Have you heard anything from Piruz?" Dean asked, lifting a hand to tap lightly on his temple.

"Nada," Caleb said, reaching over his shoulder to pull a five from Sam and three ones from Adam.

"You think he'll be there?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. He wants his plan to go off, and we're the fly in the ointment."

"A monkey in the wrench…" Dean quoted from _Die Hard_.

Caleb glanced over to Dean and grinned, "A pain in the ass…"

"You want to get a place to sleep for tonight?" Sam interrupted.

Dean grinned and let himself move on from more _Die Hard_ quotes. "Don't think we should," he said, eyes on the traffic.

Caleb looked over, saying, "You want to drive straight from here to Lebanon."

"This guy can't have much longer before he needs to complete the spell," Dean said. "Once he places his boxes, I don't think he'll waste any time getting from here to there."

"You want to drive…" Sam stated, his eyes on the back of his brother's head.

"He'll drive, so can we."

Caleb eyed Dean a moment before saying, "We can do that, sure. But I think a better option is taking the Hawker."

Dean glanced at Caleb, then looked back at Sam in the rearview mirror.

"We'd shave almost a day of off travel time, especially when you consider stopping for gas, food and bathroom breaks," Sam reasoned. "If we fly, that puts us in Lebanon before Piruz."

Dean sighed, knowing he was out voted. "Isn't your plane in Charlotte?"

Caleb pulled out his cell. "I'll text Michael, have him fly up."

"Newark Liberty International Airport is the closest to Staten Island," Sam said from the backseat. "It's only seventeen minutes away."

"I think Michael knows all the airports, Sam," Caleb said, typing on his phone.

"You're welcome," Sam quipped anyway.

Adam had been listening to the easy banter between the three men. He felt equally intrigued by this inside glimpse of their working dynamic, and out of place. "So, we're flying from New York to Kansas, not driving?"

Sam smiled. "We're flying."

Adam nodded. "Then we can get some sleep while getting there. Very efficient."

Dean gave the crafter a narrow-eyed look in the rear view while Caleb looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Exactly."

Sam leaned forward and pointed. "There's the sign for the Verrazano Narrows Bridge."

"Thank you, Sam," Dean snapped, muscling his car into an impossibly narrow gap between two cabbies and earning some long blasts from their horns. "I've never driven in New York before. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're welcome," Sam said cheerfully.

Adam gave a chuckled, which he turned into a very convincing cough when Dean glared at him in the mirror.

Leaning over, Sam whispered, "Good save. You're learning."

Adam's lips quirked slightly as he looked out the passenger's side window. Yup, this had been a very enlightening ride.

**.**

Dean pulled up alongside the entryway to Freshkills Park. At ten-thirty at night, the park was closed and deserted. Metal gates barred the drive into the park in an attempt to prevent nighttime partiers. Squinting up the paved road, he wondered whether it was very successful. "How big is this place?"

"Two-hundred acres," Sam relayed. "The city of New York established the Freshkills Landfill in nineteen-forty-eight. At the time there wasn't any large scale development on the west shore of Staten Island. By nineteen-fifty-five Freshkills was the largest landfill in the world, receiving as much as twenty-nine thousand tons of trash per day at its peak."

"Wow, that's a lot of trash," Caleb stated, looking out his window.

"It's not trash anymore," Sam stated. "It's a park."

"Built on top of trash," Caleb sniped.

Sam ignored that, saying, "Can you drive in through the trees?"

"I am not driving Baby onto a pile of trash. What if she gets stuck?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. Turn into the entryway. I'll pick the lock and open the gates." He jumped from the rear seat of the Impala and jogged to the gate. Less than a minute later he was swinging it open. When the Impala drove through, Sam swung the gate shut and hurried back over to the car. "We can drive past the bridge and park anyplace where there's cover. We'll walk in through the woods."

"Cause walking on trash is so much better than driving on it," Caleb muttered.

Dean snorted softly. Better them walking on trash than Baby getting stuck in it. Pressing on the gas, he guided the Impala through the entrance. Moving slowly, he kept an eye out for Piruz and his practically invisible Hennessey Venom. The entry drive was flanked on the left by thick rows of trees, and on the right with trees and water. They passed under a raised crosswalk and he started looking for a place to park the Impala. After rounding a second bend in the road, he saw a dark spot nestled under some overhanging trees. Skillfully he maneuvered the Impala past a tourist sign fronting a brick wall, and under a shadowed length of trees and bushes.

"Over there is Main Creek Wetland Restoration," Sam said quietly, looking to their right. "It was completed in the early twenty-first century. Most of the park is trees and wetlands."

Caleb nodded absently as he studied the terrain for tactical advantages. "Fighting here will have advantages, but also a lot of disadvantages. There's a lot of open space, and the trees won't offer much cover. But their shadows will blend with ours, give us more movement."

"How do you know where he's going to be?" Adam asked. "This park is massive."

"We don't, not for sure," Dean murmured.

"It's probable he'll head for the center," Caleb said. "There's more cover in the picnic areas. Most of the maintenance buildings, vending machines and restrooms are there."

"Should we park this far out?" Sam asked, looking out through the side and rear windows of the Impala. "If anyone is injured, we'll have to hike back."

Dean glanced back. "If needed, someone can come get the car and bring it closer."

"Driving any closer now could alert Piruz to our presence," Caleb stated unnecessarily.

"He already knows we're coming," Sam grumbled. "You called him out."

"Maybe, but we don't have to announce it with a V-8, six-cylinder engine."

Surprised, Dean said, "How did you know that?"

Caleb snorted softly. "I've been listening to you go on about this car for close to fifty years. What _don't_ I know?"

"I didn't think you were listening," Dean muttered as they climbed quietly from the car.

They gathered near a low brick wall, each one eyeing the landscape, watchful for anything in the darkness.

"Everyone got their cloaking spell bags on?" Caleb asked, pulling his shirt aside to reveal the spell pouch around his neck.

Sam and Adam pulled the necks of their shirts down to show the pouches Adam had put together.

"Dean!" Caleb barked softly, as the Guardian was prowling around his car, looking at the damage Piruz had inflicted earlier on the road to New York. "You can't do anything about the damage now."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, standing upright and pulling back his shirt to show the pouch.

"Will these really cloak our presence?" Sam asked. The spell pouches Joshua had made to cloak them from the Owl Witches in Washington last year had been effective. But Piruz was much older and stronger.

"I made the spell as strong as I know how," Adam stated. "But this witch is powerful. Consider these muffling pouches rather than cloaking."

Dean snorted out a short laugh while Caleb chuckled.

"We'll take what we can get," Caleb said. Staring out into the wooded area, he continued, "We go in on foot, use the trees and whatever else we can for cover."

"Can you tell whether he's here or not?" Dean asked, turning his gaze on the park. "Get a fix on his position?"

"Hang on," Caleb replied. Closing his eyes, he opened the turret in his fortified blocks and reached out into the park. Sensing nothing, he sighed and opened his eyes.

"Something?" Sam asked quietly.

"No, but he's a powerful bastard who knows we're psychic." Looking to Sam, Caleb said, "I'm going wide open. Watch my back."

Sam closed his eyes while Dean prowled the area, alert for any sound.

When Caleb felt Sam in his head, he dropped his blocks halfway and looked around the park. Jerking upright, he slammed them back into place and said, "Two hundred yards to the east. He's in the center plaza where the vending machines are. He's cloaked, blocked and pissed."

Sam pulled out his cell and started scrolling for a map of the park. After a moment he said, "Here's a map of the park. We're … right here," he pointed.

"We need to flank him," Caleb said, his eyes on the map.

Dean studied the small image on Sam's cell. "If we cut through the park, someone's going to have to cross the open space here in the middle," he pointed to the large expanse of grass showcased on the map, probably used for picnics, soccer and baseball pickup games. "That makes them a target. Going around would take too much time."

Caleb frowned. "We're already on the west side. So we follow the path in, staying in the tree line between the park and West Shore Expressway. As we approach the entry Plaza, we split up; two using the cover of trees on the north, two using the tree cover on the south. We attack from both sides, if possible."

Dean and Sam nodded.

"I'll go with Adam," Dean said, looking at the tall witch. "You good with that?"

Caleb didn't like that one bit, but he knew Dean felt responsible for Adam, since the man was Joshua's best friend, and he'd asked Joshua to be elsewhere.

Adam nodded. "Since we're all coming into the entry Plaza area from the same direction then splitting up, I can do spells of disinformation, obfuscation and deception. When we're near, we make him believe we are far away. When we're approaching, we make him think we're further away than we are."

"Sun Tzu," Caleb and Dean said simultaneously.

Caleb grinned. "When we are able to attack, we must seem unable…"

"When using our forces, we must appear inactive," Adam finished with a smile. "One of the Mattaponi leaders who taught me when I was young was fond of Sun Tzu. I have the spells ready. He'll catch on to what I'm doing quickly. We'll need to accomplish much before he does."

"Then let's get to it," Caleb said.

The four walked swiftly through the trees, Adam as quiet as the other three. Having spent his formative years hiking and hunting with the Mattaponi Tribe in West Virginia, he was an expert at moving through the darkness without making a sound. Even though they were moving at a good clip, it was still close to half an hour before they were nearing the first of the open grassy areas.

Sam looked around, eyes searching the darkness and shadows. Piruz knew they were coming, Caleb had called him out. So why wasn't the witch attacking? He glanced over at Caleb, who merely shrugged.

Dean was wondering as well. Could the witch pinpoint their exact location even though they were wearing the masking spell pouches? They were coming up on the south side of the entry plaza. Maybe it would be a good time for some sort of diversion. Apparently someone else had the same idea. Bushes suddenly rustled several yards away to their right, as though small animals were running around the park. Glancing behind him, he caught a glimpse of Adam with his arm raised, looking as though he'd just tossed a baseball into the distance. Following the throw angle, he saw shadows darting in and around the trees.

Adam gave a quick nod to the others as he ducked down again, falling into line behind Dean.

Sam had heard the disturbances as well, and watched the very convincing shadows a second before turning back to where Caleb was weaving through the trees.

They approached the south end of the plaza, their footsteps muted and quiet on the freshly mown grass. Caleb halted about fifteen yards inside the tree line. Most of the trees were narrow-trunked, as the landfill didn't allow for a deeper root penetration. They didn't make the best cover, but they were dense and clustered together. For blocking spells, they would have to do. Turning to the others, he said, "Here's where we split up. Use whatever tools you have wisely."

"If we kill him, the spell he cast should nullify," Sam whispered.

"The spell ring should nullify," Adam murmured. "But if Piruz has planted a living Tree near Lebanon Kansas, we'll still need to figure a way to put it back where it belongs."

Sam and Dean exchanged quick smiles at Adam saying _we'll_ have to figure out a way. A lot had changed in the last year for the stoic crafter.

"If you can, take the bastard out," Caleb said in a hushed tone. "We'll figure out how to put the tree back in Eden or burn it to the ground." He looked at Dean. "Agreed?"

Dean didn't want to put any more pressure on Joshua, but figuring out how to get the Tree back to Eden was challenging as it stood. Would Piruz being alive help, or hinder the crafter's task? He didn't know, but he needed to focus on right now. They dealt with the threat directly in front of them and took the next threat as it came. It's what a hunter did. "We focus on distracting and wounding, and if we can, we take him out."

"Let's do it," Caleb ordered, peeling off the left with Sam, while Dean and Adam took the right, moving like ghosts through the trees.

Turning to Adam, Dean murmured, "Stay behind me."

"I can watch out for myself," Adam whispered back. "I came prepared." He held up his backpack. "I made the spell pouches much stronger than before. Hopefully they'll do more damage."

Dean held out his hands, and Adam placed some pouches into the open palms. "Caleb and Sam have some as well, though I think Caleb will be using his blade."

"I'll take all the help I can get," Dean remarked, pocketing the Mylar spell pouches. "But when I tell you to duck or get behind a tree, do it. I don't doubt your ability to take care of yourself. But you're not used to fighting this type of battle. I owe it to Joshua to get you out in one piece."

Adam nodded, stating, "I'll stay behind you until you need me not to."

"Good as I can ask for," Dean conceded, giving the crafter a sharp nod. "Come on."

Caleb frowned, keeping one eye on Sam as they ghosted past trees and bushes. Piruz was a powerful witch. He knew they were here; so why hadn't he made a move yet? Caution wasn't a conceit of the powerful. There had to be a reason the witch was waiting. It was possible the masking pouches were more successful than he thought they'd be, but his instincts told him otherwise. He halted about fifteen feet before the open, paved expanse of the plaza, watching.

Sam pulled up beside him, his eyebrows raised.

Caleb held up a finger, then focused his abilities on the plaza where he knew Piruz was waiting. Sweeping his senses out, he located Dean and Adam on the other side, directly across and slightly ahead. Pulling back a little, he lowered his defenses a bit and swept the plaza. That's when he felt the power, contained like a wave harnessed behind a wall; pulsing and barely restrained. Yanking back, he sent out a psychic scream; _Take Cover!_

Dean barely had time to grab Adam and propel him behind a tree before a cyclone of power lashed out with suffocating intensity, lifting him completely off the ground and knocking him back several feet, hitting three trees as he flew. Adam hung on to the trunk of the tree where Dean had shoved him for dear life, trying to breathe through the tidal force of power. Attempting to marshal his thoughts while energy and power billowed on every side was a challenge. But he was the crafter. There had to be a way he could counter the witch's spell. Suddenly an idea popped up in his head. Muttering quickly under his breath, he used the trunk of the tree to get to his feet and threw out a few suppression spells. It wouldn't stop Piruz, but it should curb his power enough to break this spell.

Caleb had just been able to raise the Dragon's Talon like a Knight hefting his sword in battle. The spell slammed into the blade. Sam tucked in behind Caleb as the spell broke on either side of them, rending trees and shrubs from the ground in their wake. Blade bucking under the power, Caleb held on for dear life, his grip desperate against the flow when suddenly … it stopped.

Dean climbed slowly to his feet, his body aching from hitting the trees and the ground, his wounded thigh wet with renewed blood flow. Forcing his leg straight, he hurried over to Adam, who was brushing dirt, twigs and leaves out of his hair and face.

"Nicely done," Dean murmured.

"I'm just glad it worked," Adam said, then his eyes widened as an intense blue light flew in their direction. Grabbing Dean's arm just as Dean grabbed his, they dropped to the park ground.

"You realize we're crawling around on garbage," Dean remarked, scrambling back behind the tree and pulling a bottle of water from his pocket.

"Thanks for the reminder," Adam commented with a grimace. He wondered why people wanted to come here.

Caleb and Sam hurried forward now that the power wave had dissipated. "We need to be close enough to use our spell pouches." Caleb did a quick survey of the area. "I'll head forward here; the Dragon's Talon can deflect his spells. I'll keep his attention on me and you swing left, see if you can get behind him. Then we'll hit him with our spell pouches."

Sam nodded and disappeared into the shadows.

Caleb moved out into the open field, his Dragon's Blade drawn, a spell bag nestled between the handle and his palm.

"Deditionem!" Piruz suddenly thundered. _(Surrender)_

Caleb slowed slightly, never dropping his blade. "Nolite est magicae chao!" _(Stop the Chaos spell.)_

Piruz allowed his anger to swirl inside, bringing up his magic. "I bring better life."

"For those who survive," Caleb shouted.

"Sunt simper ederet funera," snarled Piruz. _(There is always death)_ "Harvest of good … worth little death."

"Like hell," Caleb growled. He wasn't fooled for one instant. Piruz had no interest in deviating from his plans; he wanted them out of the way. Therefore, when the first spells were suddenly launched in his direction, he was ready.

Sam had the spell pouches in his hands as he moved quietly through the trees, bent low at the waist, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Piruz knew there were at least three of them; he'd touched on Sam's mind at the gas station. He'd probably felt Sam protecting Caleb when Caleb linked with him. While his psychic walls weren't quite as strong as Caleb's, they were still formidable, and he had them up at full power. He didn't believe Piruz could sense him coming.

Glancing to the side, he sensed when the spells started flying and knew Caleb would be blocking them. Suddenly a bright blast of white light thundered toward Caleb, a powerful spell that wasn't like any he'd seen before. It flew straight as an arrow until it got near Caleb, then arced upward and dropped down on top of the Knight from above. Caleb lit up like he'd been struck by lightning then fell, unmoving, to the ground. Skidding to a stop, he screamed a psychic _Caleb! _Then suddenly he blinked and the scene before him abruptly reset, and Caleb was still moving toward Piruz, the Dragon's Talon blocking spells. Heart pounding in shock, he wondered what the hell had just happened?

_Sam…?_

Trusting his instincts, Sam thought back, _Big ass spell coming your way; straight in, then veering up and down from above_.

_Got it._

Just then the blaze of intensely bright light Sam had seen earlier flashed through the air, darting toward Caleb like a bolt of lightning. As it approached Caleb, it darted up then dropped downward like a bomb. Caleb had just enough time to lift the Dragon's Talon and block the spell before it would have either killed him or at the very least, knocked him on his ass.

_Thanks. Keep 'em comin'._

Sam continued to wind his way through the trees, but his mind was going a million miles an hour. Damn, he'd just had a future flash in living color. Death visions were one thing, flash forwards were another. That had only occurred once years before when he'd seen Max Miller, one of the children tainted by demon blood, murder Dean just before the attempt had been made. Was this a new aspect of the Triad gifts? Whatever it was, he hoped it continued.

Dean and Adam wound their way closer to the plaza pretty much unhindered. Dean couldn't help but wonder why was Piruz was virtually ignoring them to hurl spell after spell at Caleb? It was possible the witch was trying to wear Caleb out. They didn't know how long he could continue to block the spells without a breather. Suddenly his eyes dropped to the bottle of water in his hand. Could he give Caleb a break? After being able to work the silver in new ways last year fighting the Owl Witches, the thought of what else Triads and Guardians could do had been something he'd pondered over the last year. In Washington he'd made rain into silver, had used water from the ground to make silver, all from a distance. When he'd touched the grounds of Freshkills Park, the grass had been dry. But could he use his own water to get silver to Caleb?

Eyeing the Knight, he jogged ahead of Adam and moved closer to the tree line. Pouring some water out onto the ground, he focused on getting it to Caleb. Instead of soaking in, the water snaked its way along the blades of grass across the plaza to the Knight. Picturing a filament of the thinnest metal, Dean murmured, "Now," and brought the water up to form a screen door of sorts in front of Caleb.

Several feet behind Dean, Adam's eyes widened in amazement.

Caleb blinked as a delicate screen of filament metal appeared before him, blocking the spells. A slight smile curved his lips as he bent forward, trying to even out his breathing. _Nice job, Deuce_, he thought.

Dean grinned and moved closer to the plaza. A few yards behind, Adam rose quickly and tossed another spell about fifty yards to their right. Again, shadows raced along the plaza edge accompanied by the rustling of bushes. Piruz turned in that direction and hurled a spell, setting a young sapling ablaze.

While Piruz was turned away from them, Dean rose and lobbed two spell pouches at the witch, both of which connected; one at the back of his right shoulder, the other under the arm he had raised.

"Aarruugh!" Piruz roared, stumbling to the side.

Spinning, he hurled spell after spell in Dean's direction. Dean had a massive shield of silver raised in about two seconds flat. Adam darted forward and sheltered behind the shield beside Dean.

Sam tossed two pouches at Piruz, then hunched over, running further into the cover of the trees and behind the cement wall backing the vending machines. Unfortunately, Piruz had strengthen his cloaking, and the spells broke about a foot away. Growling in anger, the witch pivoted and hurled three spells at the retreating Scholar. The snack machine on the end of the line exploded along with two trees that had the misfortune to be nearby.

Caleb was at the plaza, and knew he needed to make his move. If he could keep Piruz occupied, then Sam and Dean could throw their spell pouches. The witch could be wounded, he knew that. They just needed to slow him down enough for Caleb to get close.

Stepping out onto the pavement, Caleb said, "Hey! Pick on someone your own size!"

An _I'm taller_ from Sam filtered through his mind, causing him to smile.

Piruz spun around quickly, hurling a deluge of spells in Caleb's direction while he muttered constantly. One hand, however, was down at his side, and Caleb could see his fingers working. The Dragon's Talon was a blurred as he blocked spell after spell, his mind in a heightened state, seeing all that was happening; Dean and Adam on his right, Sam breaching the plaza bushes behind the witch. He was about to call out that Piruz was working on a spell with suddenly a darkened cloud of fiery red was hurled at the witch, causing him to stumble sideways. A quick glance told him it was Adam's work, as the man hunkered down behind a massive silver shield.

Sam darted into the plaza behind Piruz, throwing first one, then two, three and four spell pouches at the witch. The first three hit the cloak and splattered harmlessly in the air. The fourth sailed right on through and slammed against Piruz's back, causing him to stumble forward.

At that moment Dean stood up and fired several rounds of bullets, aiming for the witch's legs and arms rather than center mass. He was counting on Piruz to protect his heart and vital organs, rather than his limbs. He was right. One bullet plowed right into Piruz's thigh. The leg collapsed though the witch managed to keep his footing. Snarling in rage, he threw both hands into the air, causing spells to ping-pong around the plaza. Sam was barely able to duck behind a massive trash can before the trees and bushes around him caught fire. Caleb's blade sheltered him, though his arms were struggling to keep aloft.

Dean poured more water into his hand and made five silver stars, which he hurled at Piruz. The witch was injured and losing his concentration as they pressed in on him from every side. Sam stood on the edge of the plaza and focused, using his abilities to crush Piruz's chest. Caleb added his Darth Vader skills and started crushing his windpipe.

Dean felt like cheering as Piruz stumbled again. Leaving his silver shield with Adam, he darted to his right, bringing up another filament of silver metal in front of Caleb. Pouring more water onto the ground, he sent it to Sam. In another minute, Sam had a screen door sized filament of silver in front of him for the second time.

Sam smiled. At just that moment he saw a weird light hovering in the darkness behind Adam. He saw Dean running toward the light in an all out sprint, then he saw the light dart forward … and Dean and Adam were gone. Suddenly he was back in the plaza and Dean was firing his gun at Piruz.

_Behind you! Watch out for the light! _he screamed.

Caleb's eyes darted to Sam, then followed his line of sight to Dean.

Sam hurled two spells pouches at the witch; both connected, knocking Piruz forward.

"Arrruuggghhh," Piruz yelled, furious. Throwing out an arm, a mass of power and energy hammered Sam, sending him sailing back about fifteen yards and slamming into a tree. At the same time Adam threw a mix of spells in Piruz's direction. They connected in a spectacular cacophony of energy, light and fire, causing the man to stumble sideways and nearly go down.

Dean frowned and stared around, Sam's warning echoing in his head. Suddenly his eyes widened. Behind Adam, moving in the darkness was a pinpoint of light. The closer it got to the crafter, the bigger it got. Swearing under his breath, furious that he'd let himself get drawn away from Adam, Dean was on his feet and running for all he was worth. He could hear spells cascading behind him, but his focus was on getting to Adam. No way was he letting Joshua's best friend die at the hands of some ancient-ass witch with delusions of world domination.

Sam's warning fresh in his head, Caleb's heart was in his throat; he'd never reach Dean in time. Instead of trying to reach Dean, he needed to stop Piruz. Turning, he dodged around Dean's silver screen and ran full out in the witch's direction, his mind focused solely on breaking every single bone in Piruz's neck.

"Adam!" Dean called out. "Turn the shield around!"

Adam frowned. Turning, he looked around. At first he didn't see anything. Then, appearing to float in his direction, was a space of darkness mixed with light. "What….?" Eyes widened, Adam stumbled to his feet and tried to back away.

"The shield!" Dean yelled.

Spinning around, Adam snatched up the silver shield and held it up just as Dean reached him, slamming into him so hard the crafter's feet were lifted clean off the ground as his entire body flew to the side, where he collided with a tree. Breath knocked out of him and still in shock, Adam craned his neck around just in time to see the dark light swallowed Dean, then wink out of sight.

**.**

Caleb was in shock. Dean was gone. Forcing himself to move, he was able to block another spell from Piruz before his mind cracked. "AAUUGGRRHHH!" he screamed. Charging Piruz with all the speed and power of a locomotive, he slammed into the witch, sending him flying back ten feet to land heavily on the pavement. Not giving the witch even a moment to regroup, Caleb was on him in a flash, the Talon at the witch's throat, growling, "Quo abiit?" When Piruz didn't answer, he shouted, "Quo abiit?!" _(Where did he go?)_

Piruz laughed, lifting his chin to expose his throat. "Scuentua moriatur, ego moriar." _(I die, the knowledge dies)_

Caleb pressed the blade into Piruz's neck, allowing blood to trickle from the wound. "After thousands of years, I don't think you want to die. Tell me, quo abiit!?"

Piruz cocked his head to the side, as though translating what Caleb had said. Then suddenly he shouted, "Potestate mea!"_(Power is mine) _and he unclenched his fists, letting power and energy explode from his hands.

Caleb went flying back off Piruz, landing eight yards away. Despite the pain, he was on his feet in seconds, but the witch was gone. "Noooo!" His brain short-circuited; he didn't know which way to go or what to do. Frantically he turned in every direction trying to figure out where Piruz had gone. Dropping his blocks, he searched the area and came up with nothing. Impossible!

"Caleb…"

Running toward the vending area where Piruz had last been, Caleb searched frantically for the witch. He couldn't have gone far; he wasn't supernatural. He was just a man with a unique and powerful ability to manipulate magic and power.

"Caleb!"

The name penetrated his brain, and he recognized it. He was Caleb. Turning he saw Adam standing near the edge of the plaza, looking lost and somewhat forlorn.

"Adam," Caleb breathed, and jogged in his direction. "Are you all right? Where's Dean?" He'd seen Dean disappear, knew he was gone; but he couldn't have stopped the question even if he'd wanted to.

"I…" Adam looked around, his expression full of confusion and disbelief. "He was here…"

_Suck it up, Junior._ Caleb looked around, as though expecting his mentor to be right on his shoulder. John's words were always there when he needed them.

"Where's Sam?" Adam asked, looking over Caleb's shoulder to where the Scholar had stood just minutes before.

"Sam?" Caleb turned around, then remembered the burst of power that had thrown the younger hunter out of sight. He needed Sam, he needed to make sure Sam was all right, he needed Sam to find Dean. "Sam!"

Together, Caleb and Adam rushed in the direction where they'd last seen the younger man. Searching through the forest, Adam tracked the broken branches, newly crushed twigs and disturbed leaves to where Sam lay at the base of a smallish tree than had broken under the impact of Sam's body.

"Sam!" Caleb cried, reaching out to touch the pulse at Sam's neck, then sighing as he detected the steady beating.

"Here, let me," Adam said softly. Slipping his backpack off, he opened it and pulled out a bottle of golden liquid. Lifting Sam's head, he gently dripped the potion into the Scholar's mouth.

While Adam gave Sam the potion, Caleb felt across Sam's body for injuries. The younger man had a dislocated shoulder, a broken arm, and possible cracked ribs. He definitely had a concussion. "You're a mess," he murmured.

It took a minute or so, but slowly Sam's eyes fluttered.

"Hey, hey," Caleb said, his throat clogged with emotion and tears. He needed Sam to be all right, needed him to speak. Sam was all he had left.

"Ugh," Sam moaned. He started to move, then froze as his body protested loudly.

"Hey, be still," Caleb ordered. Looking around, he saw that Adam was already pulling bandages from his duffel and had a small branch lying next to him for splinting Sam's arm. Giving the other man a grateful nod, he looked back down at Sam. "You've got some injuries we need to tend, okay?"

"Ummm," Sam moaned again. "Dean?"

Caleb swallowed a lump the size of Montana in his throat. "Here, drink this," he said, putting a small bottle in Sam's hand.

Sam focused on the bottle a moment, then raised it to his lips with a shaky hand. After downing it, he grimaced and handed the bottle back to Adam. "What was that?"

"Roots and herbs to help with infection, bruising and pain," Adam murmured.

"I'll need to set your shoulder," Caleb said, helping Sam into a better sitting position. "This isn't going to be pleasant." Eyeing the younger man, he asked, "You ready?"

Sam's face was white as he nodded. "Do it fast."

Caleb nodded. "On three. One…" and he shoved Sam's shoulder back into place.

"Auurrggh!" Sam gave a strangled scream. When he could, he panted, "I … knew you were going … to do that."

"Yeah, I'm so predictable," Caleb muttered, giving the younger man a wan smile.

"Here," Adam said, "let me stabilize your arm."

"My… Ouch!" Sam exclaimed as Adam touched his left arm.

"You're arm is broken," Adam explained. "I'm going to straighten it out, then splint it until we can get it set."

"Onida," Sam breathed through the pain.

"She's in Lebanon," Caleb reminded him.

"Oh yeah." Sam gritted his teeth as Adam straightened his arm. "Dean…" he moaned.

Caleb turned away and bit his lip. After a minute, he picked up a long strip of bandage and said, "Come on, let me stabilize those ribs. When Adam finishes with your arm, we'll immobilize your shoulder."

Sam frowned as Adam positioned a stick by his forearm and started wrapping them together. Looking over at Caleb, he said, "Where's Dean."

Caleb's head dropped. When he could, he said, "Gone."

Sam nodded slowly. "Okay. Gone where? After Piruz?"

"No, gone."

Frowning, Sam focused on Dean. Finally he asked again, "Where is he?"

"Gone, Sam!" Caleb exclaimed. "He's gone! Piruz did his little floating light trick and it took Dean away!" His voice broke on a sob.

"The light…" Sam remembered seeing the light take away Dean and Adam. But Adam was here. Looking to the crafter, he said, "The light was coming at you. I saw it take you and Dean."

"Dean pushed me out of the way," Adam relayed softly. "But he wasn't quick enough to…"

Sam shook his head in confusion. "But, he's here. I feel it." Turning to Caleb, he said urgently, "It's not like before, not like when he died. Then … there was nothing."

Adam's eyes widened comically. "When he died…" he murmured faintly.

Sam closed his eyes and grimaced. He hadn't meant to let that slip. "Long story."

Caleb had already closed his eyes and focused on the thread in his head that meant everything to him. It was still tangible. "What?" he blurted, confused. "I saw the light scoop him up."

"Maybe the light isn't what we think," Sam said, trying to stand. Caleb and Adam grabbed Sam's arms, careful of the broken one, and helped him to his feet. Swaying slightly, he put a hand to his head and groaned. "I think I've got a concussion."

"With the Winchester head of steel? I don't think so," Caleb said bracingly. Quickly he immobilized Sam's shoulder, tucking his broken arm into the makeshift sling.

"Where was he taken?"

Adam led Sam and Caleb over to the place where Dean had disappeared.

Sam turned to Caleb. "Can you feel anything?"

Caleb looked stunned. "What? I'm not a clairvoyant, Sam."

Sam swallowed the bile that had been rising in his throat ever since he'd gotten vertical. Finally, he said, "Can you get a fix on him?"

"I … didn't try," Caleb admitted. "I saw him disappear."

"Please, try," Sam asked. He wouldn't be able to attempt a psychic connection yet, not with his head pounding the way it was.

Caleb nodded and closed his eyes. He focused on Dean and tried to follow the thread in his head, but it wouldn't take him anywhere. And now that he was focusing on it, the thread was slowly fading. "Oh no," he murmured, trying with everything he had to keep a grip on the vibrancy of the thread. But he was unable to get a lock on his friend.

"What?" Sam asked anxiously.

"The thread … it's fading," Caleb said. Turning his back on Sam, he walked round and round the area where Dean had vanished, trying to stabilize Dean's essence in his head. "He's got to be here. He isn't dead, isn't gone," he murmured over and over. His head was aching with the effort to keep that precious life thread vibrant. Finally, he turned to Adam and said, "Can you feel anything? Any magic?"

Adam opened his mouth to say he wasn't psychic, but stopped, frowning. Closing his eyes, he focused on the magic in the area and where it might lead. Taking a slow step forward, he reached out with his own magic and touched on the magic rippling around him on every side. It was difficult to separate the elements of his magic, the potion spell bags and Piruz's magic, but he finally nodded slightly. Piruz's magic had an acidic, bitter taste, dark tendrils with an inky, slick feel. He followed those tendrils, but they didn't lead anywhere that he could see. They were writhing and fading along with all the other magic in the area. Finally, he sighed and opened his eyes. "I can detect Piruz's magic, but I can't see it going anywhere, like into a portal. It's just there along with mine and the spell bags you, Sam and Dean were throwing."

Sam grimaced, his chest tight. "Caleb…"

"We need to find him, find Piruz. He can take us to where Dean is," Caleb said. "I know it."

"What about Lebanon?" Adam asked, bewildered and confused. "Will he still go there?"

Sam closed his eyes, fighting through his nausea and trying to figure out the situation. Dean was gone, for now. But Piruz was still in play, still working on releasing chaos throughout the country.

Caleb had stilled his manic pacing and was staring at nothing in particular. No one spoke for what seemed like hours, but was in reality only seconds. "Sam, you have your set of keys?"

Sam frowned. "Yeah…"

Caleb's shoulders slumped slightly as he checked the time. It was almost midnight. Piruz had likely gone to plant his boxes in New York City. "Let's get to the airport. Michael should have landed by now; it's only an hour flight from Charlotte. By the time we get there he should have a flight plan registered to take us to Central Nebraska Regional Airport."

"What?" Sam asked, his mind not really following what Caleb was saying.

"Once we land," Caleb continued in a monotone, "we'll meet up with Joshua. I hope he's come up with a way to get rid of the Tree."

"You're saying…" Adam asked, his voice quavering slightly, "that we leave."

Caleb finally turned and looked, not at Adam, but at Sam. "Yes."

Sam didn't speak. He felt like his mind and body were wrapped in cotton, anesthetizing all his senses. And though numb, he could already feel the chasm widening within his soul. Soon, his immobilization would ebb and molten hot blackness would pour into the abyss. But right now, the distance of shock would be his solace. "We leave the car at the airport and fly to Lebanon."

Adam felt as though his mind was spinning out of control. "Should I call Joshua?"

"No," Sam murmured with a quick shake of his head. "He's got another task that needs his full attention. We can…" his voice broke slightly. "We can tell him when we get there."

"We take him alive," Caleb stated.

Sam nodded. "If there's even the remotest chance…"

"We'll find him."

* * *

Piruz drove away from the park, across a large bridge into the heart of New York City. His body ached with pain from the spells thrown at him this night, his leg painful from the projectile. Merlin's Warriors were proficient and persistent in their task, and their weapons formidable. Not enough to stop him, of course, but enough to cause pain. But he was just as persistent and dedicated to his own task. The world _would_ thank him for ridding it of evil, and it _would_ honor him. And he would be a beneficial leader, a benevolent if strict task master.

Shifting slightly, he grimaced in pain once more. It was well that he had placed his boxes earlier. Now he would return to his room, make some potion to aid in his healing. Then, he would rest. The next thirty hours would change the face of the world. Despite the pain radiating through his body, his lips twisted into a small smile. Generations of time had passed as he'd planned and worked on his strategy to remake the world as well as have his vengeance on the God-with-no-Name who had taken his life and his family. Merlin had stopped his first attempt, his three other attempts had been lessons and learning. This time, yes, this time his plan would work, and neither Merlin nor his legacy of Warriors would be able to stop him.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Shazza19, impala1979, cyenthia30, hollylilly22 and guests – Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments!_

_Guest: I think we're all going a little crazy with you!_

_Regarding the __**bunker**__ from the series: First, I didn't realize it was in Lebanon Kansas. What a surprise for me! For those who've asked, the bunker does not appear in this story. Lebanon Kansas really is the geographical center of the 48 states, so it is used in my story for that reason only. _

_In Ridley's Brotherhood AU, her series coordinated with the show up through the S5 finale, except that in the B:AU Dean and Caleb used Triad magic to pull Sam from Lucifer's cage, soul intact. My stories are set in her world, so the Men of Letters storyline didn't happen. _


	20. Chapter 20

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 20

.

Sam welcomed the pain radiating through his body as they drove away from the park. The hike back to the car had been made in silence, each person wondering whether they should really leave. But in truth, there hadn't been a true choice. Dean was gone, and Piruz was still intent on sending the country into chaos. They had a job to do. At the gate, Adam surprised them by jumping from the rear seat to pick the lock. Though Sam wanted to head straight for the airport, Caleb instead drove them to the Newark-Wayne Community Hospital's emergency room. After dragging the reluctant Scholar inside, Caleb thought they would need to explain the injuries, especially considering it was closing in on midnight. However, the bored night nurse merely handed over a clipboard filled with paperwork, told them to wait and that the doctor would be out shortly.

Seated in the waiting room, Sam watched Caleb check him in through a fog of pain and willful distance. For some reason it struck a cord that Caleb checked him in as _Sam Winchester_. That's what he'd said; Sam Winchester, and had then fished Sam's wallet from his back pocket to get to his insurance information. Echoes of _Charlie Watts_, _David Gilmore_, _Bruce Dickenson_ floated through his mind. Smiling, he huffed out a short laugh, prompting a worried look from Caleb. Dean and all his rock band names. All the times he'd checked them into the hospital with Bill Ward or John P. Jones or James Hetfield. Occasionally the names earned a suspicious look, though often if the name rung a bell, the hotel, hospital or law enforcement personnel would merely frown and let it pass. When someone did get overly curious, Dean's gift of widening those green eyes of his and looking mischievously innocent usually bought them a pass. But those days were long past, and it had been many years since they'd needed to use a name other than their own - not since they'd been considered the renegades of the Brotherhood on a good day; outlaws, rascals or dregs on the bad.

"Sam Winchester…"

Caleb rose.

Sighing, Sam looked up and said again, "I'll just wait for Onida…"

Caleb merely gestured for Sam to get up, then practically frog-marched him in to get checked out by a weary-eyed doctor with a chin full of scruff that had outlived its name and was bordering into beard territory. The doctor encased Sam's forearm in a soft cast, bound his ribs and immobilized his shoulder before saying he should spend a night in the hospital. Sam had vehemently rejected that idea and walked out, car keys in hand.

While Caleb wanted to continue driving, he declined to get into a match of wills with Sam, who had insisted he was more than capable. The younger man had climbed stiffly and gingerly behind the wheel, waited with blank-faced impatience for Caleb to climb into the passenger's seat, and they headed for the airport. Now, the Knight of the Brotherhood merely stared out the passenger side window, though Sam could feel the misery pouring off him in waves. He knew Caleb would be sensing his own desolation as well. How would they get along without Dean? Sam welcomed the pain radiating through his body as he drove the Impala to Newark Liberty International Airport.

Sitting in the back seat, Adam felt the palpable weight of sorrow in the car and felt responsible. If Dean hadn't saved him, the Guardian of the Brotherhood would still be here, working to stop Piruz's maniacal plan.

"Don't go there."

The words were soft, and it took a moment for Adam to realize Caleb had spoken. "What?"

"That's who he is. We'll find him."

Adam merely nodded and looked out the window. He understood Caleb's admonishment, because what happened, happened. But all the fight and drive was gone from the older man's tone, and he hated that.

Caleb didn't want Adam to view Dean's being taken as his fault, but he was finding it hard to distance himself from that feeling as well. The running theme in his head was that if Adam hadn't been there, he would have been with Dean and would have saved him. If he'd been partnered with Dean, he would have at least been taken with him. But he was here, riding in Dean's Baby away from the place where Dean had been taken. He felt like his heart would never recover.

Sam veered the car into the approach to the airport.

"Take VIP parking," Caleb murmured. No way was he parking Dean's car in the general lot.

Sam nodded and followed the signs. He was trying to make himself feel something, but he just couldn't. It was like he was maneuvering through a dream. Dean couldn't be gone; he just couldn't. He didn't know what to do. The Impala slid into a parking slot near the elevators before he even realized it was exactly where Dean would have parked. With measured movements, he turned off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

Caleb remained sitting for a brief moment before he finally pushed open the car door and climbed out. Every movement seemed to take more effort than was necessary. But they had a job to do, people to save. As Adam emerged from the back seat, Caleb pulled his cell from his pocket. "Michael said he booked an open runway, so we should be able to takeoff within the hour." He sent back a reply, then his cell went blank. Frowning, he shut the cell off, and tried to turn it back on again, but it remained blank.

"Something?" Adam asked.

"Cell died. Don't know why; the battery was fully charged," Caleb murmured.

The driver's door finally opened and Sam grunted as he stepped out. Looking at Caleb across the hood of the car, he hated to say he recognized that looked of forced concentration on the older man's face, though he hadn't seen it in decades.

Caleb sighed and shoved his cell back into his pocket and walked around to the trunk. After Sam popped the lock, he leaned in and snagged some of the duffels, handing others to Adam while ignoring Sam's outstretched hand. When he closed the lid, he immediately turned and led the way to the elevators. No one spoke as the elevator car took them to the terminal, where Caleb headed immediately to the private departures wing. Walking up to the reception desk, he said, "Caleb Reaves."

The brunette haired woman smiled brightly. "Welcome to Newark Liberty International Airport. Have you flown through our airport before?"

Caleb nodded. "Yes."

Typing quickly, eyes on her screen, the desk clerk said, "It looks like you'll depart on runway fifteen in … thirty-five minutes." Looking up, she said, "Down the hall is a waiting room…"

"We'll wait on board."

The woman blinked slightly, then nodded. "Of course." She typed a bit more, then stepped to the side. "Follow me, and I'll take you to your exit."

"No need," Caleb said shortly. Making a minute grimace at his brusque tone, he amended, "Thank you for your courtesy. However, I've flown through this airport numerous times and wouldn't want to take you away from your duties."

"It's no problem, Sir," the girl stated earnestly. "It's my pleasure to show you…"

"Mr. Reaves," said a deep voice.

Caleb turned and sighed in relief. Frederick Jones was the Aviation Manager of the Private Terminal wing at Newark Liberty. Smiling, he moved away from the Stepford desk attendant, his hand out. "Good to see you, Frederick."

"Nice to see you flying through Newark Liberty again." Looking to Sam and Adam, they exchanged introductions before he turned to the desk attendant. "Thank you, Missy. I'll take it from here."

"But, I need to show him…"

"Not necessary," Frederick stated, "but you're hard work is noted."

Missy gave Frederick Jones a blinding smile and returned to her position behind the desk.

Frederick led the way toward a door behind the desk, saying, "I'm not sure what's been happening lately. I've had to fire four people for extreme insubordination and aggression. Then I have people like Missy who can't seem to help beaming all over everyone." He opened the door and ushered the three men inside. "When I talk to her, I feel as though I'm getting a cavity."

Adam gave a soft chuckle.

Caleb turned and said, "In the next few days, you might want to give those people you let go another chance."

Frederick's brows rose in surprise. "You don't say," he said slowly. He'd known Caleb Reaves for more than thirty years, had known Mackland Ames as well. He'd known them long enough to put some stock into what they said. "Can you tell me why?"

Caleb grimaced slightly. "Let's just say they weren't themselves and may deserve a second chance."

Frederick didn't immediately reply, though he studied Caleb thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "A couple days, huh?"

Caleb nodded.

"I suppose some time off was called for in most cases." Turning, he walked down the hall and stopped before a door near the end. "The stairs to the Hawker have already been lowered. Have a good flight, gentlemen."

"Good to see you again," Caleb said, shaking the other man's hand.

Frederick grasped it a fraction of a second longer than necessary, saying, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Caleb blinked, shocked.

"It's written all over your face," Frederick explained softly. Nodding once, he retreated back down the long hallway without another word.

Caleb didn't move. He felt like his body had frozen in place. It wasn't until Sam shuffled past him through the door that he felt himself breathe once more. Following, he was the last up the steps to his jetliner. Slowly he retracted the stairs and closed the door. He didn't bother to lock it as Michael Foster, his pilot, always did that as part of the pre-flight duties.

Inside he saw that Adam had taken his usual seat toward the back, and was staring out the window. Sam shifted the duffel Adam had dropped near his seat, determinedly not looking in his direction. Caleb was all right with that. He didn't think he could do what they needed if he took even one second to fully realize the sorrow and loss buried in his heart. Turing, he sat down in a chair near the front of the cabin and closed his eyes. A second later a small, warm light bloomed in his mind. Onida.

Caleb's chest tightened with pain as emotions stormed through his body with all the power of a tapped off geyser.

The light warmed and turned blue.

Caleb didn't want to speak because he knew he couldn't hold it together if he did. Instead of talking, he pictured a warm golden glow and sent it back through their connection.

The blue light darkened, the edges silvering slightly.

_I'll see you very soon_, Caleb finally thought. That was neutral enough, he hoped.

The blue light brightened, the edges turning to gold. _Can't wait_, floated down their connection. _We'll talk_, was the last thought before the light faded away.

Caleb heaved another emotional breath that was ruthlessly strangled as he wrestled his emotions back down into the pit of his body.

Michael Foster stepped out of the pilot's cabin and nodded, saying, "Good evening, Mr. Reaves," then began to check and lock the door.

Sam was keenly aware of Caleb and his struggles to keep his emotions at bay. He still felt almost too numb, and dreaded the moment when his own emotions stormed their way past his barricades. Dean. His brother's name whispered unbidden through his mind and he closed his eyes, shutting himself away from the name that meant everything. Suddenly he pulled out his phone. Hitting a speed dial number, he closed his eyes as a beloved voice answered.

"Dad? Are you all right?"

Sam's voice clogged for a second as he wondered how in the world Mary could possibly know that Dean was gone. Then he realized it was after midnight and berated himself for calling. Smiling, he forced some normality into his voice. "Sorry, I didn't realize the time when I called."

"It's all right. I wasn't asleep."

"Studying?" Mary was a chip off the ole block when it came to her studies.

"Yeah. Got an examine in comparative literature tomorrow. It's thematic on French literature. Not my best subject, but I'll do fine."

"I know you will," Sam fell back on the safe territory of reassuring his daughter. "You're going to do great."

"Thanks," Mary said. After a moment, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Sam declared. "I just wasn't paying attention to the time. We're on a hunt and just boarded Caleb's Hawker to fly to Kansas."

Being on a hunt explained everything, and Mary laughed. "Bet Uncle Dean loved that. He was probably still demanding you drive even after you got to the airport."

Sam's heart clenched, but he fought through it and forced out a laugh. "Twenty one hours to drive, three hours to fly. Caleb made a good case."

There was silence again. "It's going to be all right, Daddy," Mary said softly.

Sam couldn't help it; his eyes teared up and he cleared his throat. "I know it will." Swallowing hard, he said, "I want to see you this weekend, okay?"

"I'll be home," Mary promised. "Good night, Daddy."

Sam's chest clenched again at the _daddy_. "Night, baby," and he closed his phone. The dam broke.

* * *

JT woke suddenly, fully awake in an instant. Staring into the darkness, he listened to the sounds of his home, trying to identify the reason he'd woken so abruptly. Wind lapped at the windows panes, the house creaked, and he could hear the comforting surge of the waves on the shore outside. Instead of turning over and going back to sleep, he rose and walked out into the living room.

It had been a busy couple of days, with staying in contact with Alison regarding Caleb's plan to monitor the country for violent supernatural outbreaks. Max was keeping a close eye on the West Coast while he surveyed the East. James was working with Alison on redistributing hunters into the areas with the highest concentration of unexplained violence. He'd also been working on a deadline for getting his Supai Arizona photo shoot cropped, organized and written. It was due in two days.

Standing in the middle of the room, he listened to the house. Slowly he crossed over to the sliding glass doors leading out onto his back deck and surveyed the beach. The ocean was a dark, writhing mass beyond the sand's edge, but the beach as well as his deck was deserted. Frowning, he made a circuit of his entire home, just feeling every room. When he finished, he ended up back in the living room. The clock showed it was a minute or two before midnight. Turning suddenly, he entered his studio and booted up his computer. Quickly he checked through his emails, but found nothing from Max, James or Ryker, and still nothing from his dad or uncles. Frustrated, he snapped the computer shut and returned to his bedroom. Climbing into bed, he spent a fruitless five minutes trying to recapture sleep before rising once more.

Another check of the time indicated only twenty minutes had passed since he'd first woken. Max was probably still up, since he was working on some new recipes for Sawyer's. James was most likely up studying. But he didn't want to call. Returning to the double doors, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling that had pulled him from sleep. Dad told him he needed to pay attention to the feelings he had, to the things he just knew, and he knew something was wrong. Pacing slightly, he walked back and forth in front of the doors, dragging his fingers along the cool glass. Suddenly his eyes popped open. Dad.

Rushing back into his bedroom, he snatched up his phone and hit a speed dial number. The phone rang until his father's voice came on the voice mail. Hitting the disconnect button, he tried twice more before attempting to connect with Sam and Caleb. When their phones both went to voice mail, he dropped his cell slowly onto the bed. The clock face on his bedside table said it was twelve-twenty-five in the morning. If he left now, he could be in Louisville by eleven-thirty or noon. But was that the right choice? Dropping onto the bed, he focused on the feeling that had woken him, and suddenly he was going home. Rising, he shucked his sweats and pulled on his jeans. Within fifteen minutes he was dressed, had coffee in a to-go mug, and his backup duffel in hand. He flipped off the lights in the bedroom, but left on a couple of timed lamps in the living room. Setting his coffee down, he slowly pulled his cell from his pocket. Staring at the face, he made his decision. Pulling James, Max and Ryker's numbers into a joint message, he texted, _Meet in Louisville ASAP_. Pulling a deep breath in through his lips, he pocketed the cell and retrieved his coffee and duffel.

At the front door, he stopped and focused one more time. This time, he had the distinct impression of a voice saying, _Go_. Maybe it was Dad, maybe it was Pastor Jim. Either way, he shut and locked his door with finality and headed for the car. He was on his way home.

* * *

It was after midnight, and Joshua sat at the kitchen table, frowning at his open computer. The evening had been full of fun and laughter as Jocelyn insisted the puppies needed to eat dinner at the table in celebration of his return. Nicholas had been delighted with the idea, thus Carolyn's penchant for eating dinner in the dining room, especially for evening meals, was thwarted.

When dinner was served, the puppies climbed up on their little hind legs, tails wagging manically as they yipped and enthusiastically embraced this rare treat. Bouts of uncontrolled laughter followed as the puppies' little tongues lapped at their food. Maxie was so eager and excited, his little paws slipped right off the table, and it was only through Jocelyn's quick intervention that he was saved from falling directly off the chair and onto the floor. Finally, Carolyn had insisted the puppies be returned to the cushions inside their cage to sleep so the rest of them could stop laughing and enjoy their own meals.

It had taken a long time to get Nicholas into bed. Though the child's eyes were drooping and his yawns nearly non-stop, he didn't want to let go of Joshua. Joshua had thought to have an hour or so with Carolyn, but in the end had simply changed clothes and gotten into bed with his young son. It was only a short while later when he woke suddenly, mind instantly alert. At first he wondered if something had happened with Dean, Caleb and Sam, though when he picked up his phone, he saw there were no calls or texts. Then his mind went to the Tree. Waking abruptly when he was dealing with a puzzle was for him a common occurrence. After lying there for a few minutes, he'd finally gently disentangled himself from Nicholas's legs and rose.

Now he was sitting at the table, cup of hot tea in his hand, his notes spread out before him. The seeds were the sticking point for him. First, why make a circle? There could only be two reasons; to keep the power in, or for protection. Both reasons could work in tandem for this circle, but he was opting for keeping the power of the Tree contained so Piruz could establish control. Second, why use seeds from the Tree? He could understand using a substitute for blood, since the circle was as large as the entire country. However, Piruz was using seeds and cocobolo wood. Lifting his cup to his lips, he took a bracing sip of the hot brew. Eyes drifting across the pages of his notes, he suddenly thought, the Tree was too powerful to be controlled.

His cup hit the counter with a hard click. The Tree was too powerful. Piruz couldn't control it. He'd probably tried everything, but still couldn't. It was possible only the Tree could control the Tree. His eyes darted to the rubbing he'd made of the box lid. Piruz cleverly used the seeds from the Tree to control the Tree. But if using the seeds was intended to control the Tree, why put them into a box designed to contain their power?

Joshua stood abruptly and began pacing because he just couldn't sit anymore. _Think magically_, he told himself. Cocobolo wood contained or controlled something powerful. Why would Piruz need that? Because the seeds wouldn't stay away from the Tree. Any vestiges of weariness were chased away by the certain knowledge he'd just tripped over: the seeds were the only thing powerful enough to control the Tree, but they wouldn't control it willingly. That was the reason for the cocobolo wood. But to get them to act against the Tree, Piruz would need to infuse them with his own power. Since he doubted the seeds could have been fused with _anyone's_ magic, Piruz would have had to infuse the cocobolo wood. Either way, it would have taken decades of work.

Joshua grabbed his mug and took another sip of his tea. His gaze rested on the rubbing of the box lid again. Why put the clues as to what was inside right on the lid, and in so many different languages, glyphs and sigils? Clues, riddles, puzzles, cryptic verse. Suddenly he snorted. Damn, the cheeky bastard. The lid was truth, though it was intended as a diversion. A puzzle that would take time to unravel, with an _aha_ at the end. _Look at me, you're too late!_ Piruz had factored the Brotherhood into his battle plans! He had probably come up against the Brotherhood after Merlin's death. How many years had it been since his last encounter with one of their group? The Brotherhood had come a long way since Merlin's time. Now, they had a wealth of knowledge and research capabilities at their disposal. Piruz was counting on them doing their due diligence in deciphering the box lid. While they were tied up researching the numerous languages - many of them dead languages - and deciphering the lid, he would be putting his plan into action. But they had interpreted the lid quickly. Did he suspect how much they'd already learned?

"Joshua?"

Joshua turned around and saw Carolyn watching him, sleep-eyed, from the doorway. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"You're not being by my side woke me," Carolyn said with a smile, stepping more fully into the kitchen. Her eyes went to the papers and the open computer. "For the hunt?"

Joshua went and poured Carolyn a cup of tea and handed it to her. "Yes. It's complicated, and Dean tasked me with the job of moving a powerful object out of our reality."

Carolyn looked startled. "Excuse me?"

Joshua smiled. "When this is done, we will sit down, enjoy cups of tea and I'll tell you about the entire hunt."

Putting her full mug on the counter top, Carolyn stepped in and placed her arms around Joshua's waist. "I know without a shadow of a doubt that this hunt is in good hands. You'll create the spell, and it will succeed."

Joshua swallowed lightly, fervently hoping she was correct. He had solved much of how Piruz had created the spell using the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Now he needed to write a spell that would open the cocobolo wood boxes, allowing the seeds to return to the Tree, and then for the Tree to be removed for their reality. Sure, as Caleb would say; piece of cake.

"Daddy."

Joshua and Carolyn turned and hurried to Nicholas' side.

"We're here, baby. Do you need some water?" Carolyn asked.

Nicholas nodded. Joshua got him a cup of water, then lifted the sleepy boy into his arms. "Let's go back to bed, all right?"

Nicholas' head hit Joshua shoulder as he nodded.

Carolyn put their mugs in the sink and gently closed Joshua's laptop. She had no doubt her husband could do whatever he set his mind to. Smiling, she shut off the kitchen light and followed him to bed.

* * *

Alison Daughtery's fingers flew over the keys to her computer. A glance at the clock told her it was after midnight. Only five minutes had passed since she'd last checked. She should have left the office hours ago, but she hadn't heard from Caleb in over a day. Even when he was hip deep in a hunt, he was always very meticulous about touching base with her, hearing about other hunters in the field, giving her an update on the hunt he was working. She knew that the stakes were high on this particular job, especially since the entire Triad was working it together. She was worried.

She pulled up another email, this one from Riley. He was overseeing the rising violence in the South Eastern States, on Caleb's orders. There were already fourteen hunters in the Florida, Georgia, Alabama, South and North Carolina area. His email indicated that three hunters from the central states were coming down into the Southern area to be on hand should violence amongst the supernatural rise. His email gave those three names so Alison could update her records. Quickly she responded to his communiqué and sent the reply. She clicked on another email when the phone rang. Snatching it up, she said, "Daughtery."

"Alison, its Jody. Have you heard from Dean?"

"No."

Jody sighed. "Okay. I've been in touch with Jackson and Steve. Activity is escalating in the Pacific Northwest as it is here. Our teams are trying to keep on top of the skirmishes, but if another area has some hunters to spare, we'd appreciate a few more bodies on the ground. Once a team finishes a hunt, they get some rest and are on to the next. We could use a hand."

"Caleb said no one was to hunt in pairs," Alison declared. "He wants a minimum of three on a hunt, preferably four."

"I hear you," Jody stated. "But sometimes that's difficult. It's really heating up out here, and there are only so many hunters to go around."

Alison nodded, though Jody couldn't see her. "I realize that, but make sure Caleb's orders are followed. Violence is rising in the human world. Apply that rise to the monster world and unpredictable becomes erratic and extremely violent. Caleb's orders were to protect our people."

"I know that," Jody growled. Closing her eyes, she reigned in her temper. She was tired, and it had been a long week.

After returning from Stillwater Minnesota, she and Mark along with Jackson and Steve continued to work on monitoring violence throughout the country. When they noticed more news items of gruesome, unexplained acts of violence, they realized that whatever was affecting the human population was also affecting the supernatural world. They had extended their search for news on unexplained deaths when she'd gotten an email from Alison. Caleb had already anticipated the possibility that supernatural creatures would be affected by what was happening and devised a plan of action for the hunting community.

His plan divided the country into nine quadrants, with one hunter or hunting team coordinating each quadrant. All available hunters were asked to check in with the quadrant coordinator nearest their current location. If humans were behaving erratically, times that by a thousand, and you've got monsters with fangs and super strength behaving in extremely unpredictable ways. Hunters were to hunt in threes or fours. Even then, the order to call in additional backup should the need arise was _not_ optional. Name of the game was expect stronger, fiercer, more aggressive monsters and be prepared. They were to keep in contact with the site coordinator and be ready to move should help be needed in other states.

Jody saw that she and Mark would oversee hunters in North and South Dakotas, Nebraska, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and Illinois. Caleb had designated Jackson and Steve to cover the Pacific Northwest. Jody had read through the entire email aloud for Jackson, Steve and Mark to hear. When she finished, she reread it again. The plan was well thought out and thorough. Caleb had been under no illusion that the violence wouldn't affect the supernatural world.

Alison heard the irritation in Jody's voice and sighed. She was tired and worried, and letting that affect her responses. "I know you do."

Jody held on to her temper. Alison was a forthright person and was extremely territorial when it came to _her_ Triad. "Caleb's plan is excellent, and we're doing what we need to do to the best of our abilities and man power, with a mind to protecting not only our people, but innocents. But you know as well as I, that in the field, plans are fluid." Sighing a bit, she went on, "Please let JT or Max know that Mark is heading to Oregon to help out with an uprising of vampires there. If there's anyone else that's free to help us in our territory, let me know and send them in."

Alison nodded. "Done. And Jody? Thanks for getting in touch."

Jody took the apology and smiled. "No problem. Night."

Alison set down the receiver and sighed. She hadn't meant to be short-tempered with Jody. Worry was fraying at her nerves. Another look at the clock told her it was time to leave. Quickly she wrote second email to Caleb telling him to check in, then rose as the phone rang again. "Daughtery."

"Hey Alison," Ethan said. "Have you heard from Caleb?"

Gritting her teeth a moment, Alison steadied herself and said, "Not yet, no."

"I haven't either," Ethan stated. "I was wondering whether they'd gotten any further in heading off this Chaos Spell. When did he last check in?"

"Night before last."

"That makes him six hours late."

"Yes."

Ethan didn't speak for a moment, then said, "Yeah, okay. You have his last location?"

"Raleigh North Carolina. I believe they were heading up to New York after that."

"All right. Things are under control here for the moment. If you don't hear from him by morning, Eli and I will track them down. Agreed?"

Alison closed her eyes in relief, saying, "Agreed."

"Keep the faith," Ethan said, then hung up.

Alison snorted and rolled her eyes, but pulled on her coat and snagged her purse with a lighter heart. Her Triad would be just fine.

* * *

Juliet woke up and felt emptiness; not merely in the bed, but inside. Slowly she ran her hand over the place where Dean always slept, feeling the cool sheets, the soft pillow. The house creaked and moaned with age as she shoved aside the covers and rose.

Talking to Onida earlier had been a welcome relief to her solitary home. She wished Mary could have come and stayed. Yes, she'd been busy: the Benson's Retriever had her puppies, and all eight were doing well. The Hoffstadter's mare had fouled, and that had been a cause for celebration. Triumph was a race horse of incredible speed, but delicate constitution. She'd never brought a foul to full term before. But under Juliet's watchful care, she'd had a healthy, knobby-kneed colt the Hoffstadter's had named Victory. Juliet thought that was a little presumptuous, as the offspring of most successful race horses weren't, in turn, successful on the track. But she supposed Vic was a cute and acceptable nickname.

Slippered feet hit the first step as she walked downstairs. She didn't like it when Dean was gone for more than a night or two, especially now that the boys weren't home. Usually one night was the norm, occasionally two. He hadn't been gone longer since last year, when he had gone to Washington. That hunt had changed so many things, bringing Onida into their lives, a friend she treasured. Adam and his family had moved into the area, expanding their family, and of course, Nicholas, Dean's new Godson. They had talked a lot about bringing another child here to the farm. She was all for it, but Dean was worried about shortchanging a child who needed their love. Pouring herself a cup of water, she gave a small, audible snort. If anyone knew how to love a child, it was Dean; Caleb and Sam as well. Caleb excelled at being an uncle to his nieces and nephews, and Sam had done a wonderful job raising Mary. Family. Having been raised an only child, how she loved family; the good, the mess, the tears and the laughter.

Walking into the front room, she stared out through the front windows, as though be mere wishing she would hear the powerful engine of Dean's beloved car. How she wanted him home.

A scratching on the door had her opening it to see the small greyhound. His front paw had healed fairly well, but he still tended to run with a limp. She knew it would disappear over time. Leaning down, she pulled the slender, lithe dog to her and murmured, "Hey Bit. Where are your two buddies, huh?" Two-Bit leaned into her legs as she scanned the yard. P-Boy and Sodapop were either asleep in the barn or out chasing rabbits. Opening the door further, she stepped back to allow the small greyhound to limp lightly inside. "Just this once," she said softly, watching as the dog went to the stairs. Of course, all the dogs had spent plenty of time in the house, especially when Ben, JT and James lived at the farm. Waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Two-Bit watched her with soulful eyes.

"Yeah," she said, locking up the front door again. Once more her eyes surveyed the moonlit road leading to the farm. "Dean," she whispered into the night, a longing and a prayer. "Come home."

* * *

"Dean."

Dean heard his name, but for some reason couldn't open his eyes.

"Dean, come on, wake up." A hand touched his cheek and patted gently.

"Ugh," Dean grunted, and opened his eyes.

Above him was a brilliant blue sky, brighter than he'd ever seen in his life.

"Sit up slowly."

Someone placed a hand beneath his back and helped him into an upright position. He wanted to know who that was, but his breath had just been taken away by the most beautiful landscape he'd ever seen; ever imagined existed. "Wow," he murmured.

"I know, gorgeous, huh?"

Dean looked over, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Joel?"

Joel Neubridge nodded. "Yeah."

"You're alive."

"I know," Joel chuckled. "Welcome to the most beautiful alternate dimension ever. How are you feeling?"

"I'm … not sure." Dean held out his hand so Joel could help him stand. Still trying to see everything at once, he asked, "Where are we?"

"That's the question of the day," Joel said.

"Are we dead?"

"I don't think so," Joel stated. "I don't feel dead. Plus, shouldn't there be heaven and harps and angels?"

Dean smirked. "Maybe," eyes still on the large green meadow going on for eons.

"How's Daniel? Is he all right?"

"Upset about your death," Dean said, "or disappearance," he amended, giving the other man his full attention for the first time. "But he's fine, unhurt. He's been working with us to figure out how to stop Piruz from creating a Chaos Spell."

"Piruz?"

"The witch we're fighting, his name is Piruz something-something," Dean said, his eyes going back to the landscape. "He plans on creating a Chaos Spell to break down society so he can get rid of criminals and bad people and populate the country with only the good."

Joel snorted. "Like that's gonna work. People are people."

Dean took a limping step forward, still entranced by what he was seeing. A length of meadow spread out before him, rolled out like a carpet. The grass was greener than any green he'd ever seen. Every blade was waving gently in the breeze; a breeze that brushed his skin with the perfect balance of coolness and warmth. Just beyond the meadow were tall trees, some green, some peppered with fruits of various colors. "Eden," Dean answered, his voice faint with shock, unable to take his hungry eyes from the intensely beautiful surroundings. "We're in Eden."

Joel blinked. "As in the Garden of…?"

Dean nodded. "Sam figured out what the top of the boxes was warning us about. Apparently, the boxes contain the seeds to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil."

"That's here?"

"Guess so," Dean murmured. He limped forward again, his body aching.

"Here," Joel said, handing him a piece of purple fruit with a pale gold ring at the top near the stem.

Frowning, Dean lifted it, examining it closely. "What is it?"

"I have no idea, but it's delicious. And it helps with healing." Joel picked up a piece of the fruit that was sitting on the grass near them and took a bite. "When I first got here I had cracked ribs, a burn mark on my shoulder," he pointed to his tattered shirt and the healed flesh beneath, "and a sprained ankle." He jumped lightly in one spot. "All better."

Dean took a bite. "Oh, wow," he murmured, chewing in rapturous pleasure before swallowing. "That's amazing."

Joel grinned. "I know. Most of the fruit here is out of this world. Of course, I'd really love a plate of greasy fried chicken, but I'm not complaining."

Dean chuckled and finished the piece of fruit. Surprisingly, there were no seeds or core. "What happened? How did you … we, get here?"

"I'm not sure, but I've had a lot of time to think about it," Joel said. They started walking casually toward the tree line. "I think somehow the witch was able to open a portal here. It's the only thing I can think of. He opened a portal and I got pulled in, or pushed in somehow."

Dean nodded. "I wonder if there's anyone around here we can ask," he mused.

"I couldn't find a soul. But if this really is the Garden of Eden, we know that four angels are standing guard at each end of the garden; north, south, east and west. You think they'll help us get out?"

"I'm not sure I want to go there yet," Dean said. "They're supposed to keep people out of Eden. I'd hate to think of what they'd do if they found us wandering around in here."

Joel sighed. "There isn't anyone else. I don't know how long I've been here, but I haven't seen anyone except the animals."

"Animals?"

Joel pointed over to where a lion was taking a nap underneath one of the fruit trees.

Dean stared. "Okay, if a lamb comes over and sits down next to him, I'm freaking out."

Joel chuckled. "They're all friendly. I had two mountain cats keep me warm a couple nights ago."

Shaking his head, Dean said, "Let's see if we can get out of here before I have to bed down for the night."

"I don't have the magical knowledge to open a portal to get out of here," Joel stated. "So I'm thinking our best option is one of the angelic guards."

Though he hadn't seen the angel in years, Dean thought, _Castiel_.

And suddenly, a man with tousled hair and a rumpled trench coat was standing in front of him.

"Dean," Castiel said, his head tilted to the side in that same bird-like manner he'd always had. "It is good to see you. Age becomes you."

"Oh," Dean said, running a hand through his hair before grinning. Stepping forward, he gave the angel a huge hug, murmuring, "It's so good to see you, old friend."

Castiel hugged back with just as much fervor. "I have missed you very much as well, my friend."

When they parted, Castiel frowned and said, "What are you doing in the Garden? It is forbidden to enter. How did you get here?"

"Some sorcerer said a spell and pushed us in," Dean said. "Can you help us get out?"

Joel was watching the exchange, his mouth open in surprise. Everyone knew the stories of angels and how one angel had watched over and fought beside Dean years before. But seeing one looking so … human, was unsettling.

"I do not know how to break out of Eden," Castiel said.

"How did you get here?" Dean asked.

"Through heaven."

"Oh," Joel said, finally able to find his voice. "Let's avoid that route."

"As far as I knew, Eden has been locked for all time. I do not know how your sorcerer found a hole in the fabric of this place."

"Are we in an alternate dimension?" Joel asked, his voice filled with awe at talking with an angelic being, no matter how human and rumbled he looked.

"No," Castiel stated. "This Garden is in your dimension. It is a location, however, that has been hidden from mankind since God escorted Adam and his issue from the grounds."

"Issue?" Joel whispered.

"His descendants," Castiel clarified.

"Then how did Piruz gain access?" Dean asked.

Castiel frowned. "Piruz zadeh Vahid?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably. I can't remember his whole name."

"Heaven has tried to capture him," Castiel said. "He has flouted the laws of nature by elongating his life unnaturally."

Joel frowned. "Then why haven't you found him?"

"Because he's hidden in here," Dean said, looking around. "He's been here, in the Garden. At times he steps into the real world, then comes back here."

"And now we know," Castiel says. "Death has been looking for him for a very long time."

Dean nodded, and looked around. "So, how do we get out? I don't have Piruz's magic."

"You have your own magic," Castiel stated with a small smile.

Dean blinked. "What magic?"

"Guardian magic."

Confusion and disbelief were clearly written across Dean's face. Pulling Castiel aside, he said, "We don't talk about the silver in front of people."

Castiel frowned. "I was not."

"Silver?" Joel repeated, holding up his hand to showcase his ring.

Dean rolled his eyes. No point in keeping the silver secret. Any escape solution, silver related or not, would be used by them both. "Then what were you talking about?"

"Guardian magic."

"You said that already," Dean stated impatiently. "If you're not talking about the silver, then I don't know what you mean."

"Maybe I can explain."

Dean jerked at the sound of the voice. Whirling, he saw Pastor Jim walking towards him through the trees. "Pastor Jim?"

"Pastor…?" Joel stuttered, his eyes wide. "_The_ Pastor Jim?" Pastor Jim was known as Dean's mentor, his predecessor, as someone the Guardian looked up to and whose words he cherished.

Walking up to his protégé with a huge smile on his face, Pastor Jim said, "The situations in which you find yourself, my boy. No Guardian before has seen the like."

"This was not my fault," Dean countered humorously.

Jim chuckled. "Your journal is going to make very interesting reading for future generations." Turning to Joel, he said, "Joel Neubridge. I am so sorry for your loss, but I have watched you and Daniel fight to save others. Your wife is very proud of you."

Joel choked as tears flooded his eyes. "She's all right?"

Jim nodded. "If it had been possible, she would have come with us. As it is, you're being here at all is a situation that needs to be dealt with quickly."

"You're not in trouble being here, are you?" Dean asked anxiously, looking from Pastor Jim to Castiel, who was standing nearby, observing the goings on.

"I can't stay long, and neither can Castiel," Jim said. "Eden is closed for business, at least for now. But we came to help you out of this predicament."

"I'm not seeing how Guardian powers can help here," Dean murmured, keeping his voice low.

Pastor Jim smiled. "Years ago, you went into an underground river."

Dean nodded. "Where Gideon died," he said solemnly.

Jim nodded. "When you swam under the waterfall and needed to reach your Triad, what did you do?"

Dean frowned. "I made a pathway across the water to Sam and Caleb. But that was across water," he hissed. "Not through dimensions."

"We're not in another dimension," Castiel repeated.

Dean shook his head and huffed out an impatient breath. "We are, for all intents and purposes."

"No, we're not," Jim said patiently. "Eden is hidden away at the crux of the Tigris, the Euphrates, the Ganges and the Nile Rivers."

At the mention of the Tigris, Dean began to smile. "When I get back, I'm going to read your Bible, Pastor Jim."

"Let's not descend into lunacy, my boy," Jim said with a broad smile. "But reading a few verses here and there wouldn't hurt."

"Done," Dean said with a smile. "So, how do I go about this?"

"How did you do it before?"

Dean frowned. "I just thought of being with Sam and Caleb, and there was the pathway."

"Then I suggest you do that again," Jim said.

Dean nodded. "Before we go, do you know where the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is?"

Castiel looked concerned. "It is in the very center of the Garden, and well protected."

"Well, maybe not as protected as you think," Dean said. "Piruz took it into our dimension, and it's creating havoc."

"That is not possible," Castiel said, shaking his head. "The Tree is here and only here. It cannot be moved."

"It's there," Dean insisted.

"It cannot be," Castiel stated firmly.

"Can we see for ourselves?" Pastor Jim asked, breaking the stalemate of it is/it isn'ts.

"The Tree is in the very center of the Garden," Castiel said again. "It is extremely well protected."

"Listen," Dean said. "This guy took the Tree or part of the Tree into our world. How could he have done that if the Tree is well protected?"

Castiel merely looked over his shoulder. Finally, he turned back and said, "I will take you there, but only you. I do not know whether we will be discovered or what the consequences will be. However, if someone has been there, we will find out."

Dean nodded. Turing to Pastor Jim, he said, "You'll wait?"

"As long as possible, my boy."

Castiel touched Dean's shoulder and they disappeared, only to reappear in a heavily shaded part of the Garden. It looked somewhat like pictures Dean had seen of the Amazon rain forest. Lavish trees clustered together, with sunlight sparkling through the enormous leaves and fronds. A soft breeze threaded its way through the branches, flowing over Dean's skin like a soft, warm wave. The greens were more intense than he'd ever seen, and each leaf was without blemish. Reaching out, he touched a waxy leaf nearby and smiled at the cool, smooth feel. The ground was thick with moss and leaves, and had a spongy, wet feel when he took a step. Echoes of screeching and caws indicated the presence of birds, though he didn't see any. Looking around, Dean murmured, "This is amazing."

Castiel smiled. "It is. It has been so long since I visited the Garden. It truly is a masterpiece of my Father's."

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Spices, greenery, and the sweet waft of flowers tickled his nose. It was perfect.

"We should hurry," Castiel said, smiling as he watched Dean's pleasure at experiencing another place in Eden.

Opening his eyes, Dean sighed. "Are there differences all over Eden? I mean," he shook his head, smiling; "back there with Pastor Jim and Joel, it looks like a meadow in the middle of Kansas. Here it's like the Amazon Rainforest."

"Eden is vast and varied, with every type of plant life, animal and garden you can imagine."

Dean whistled. "It's that big, huh?"

"Much bigger than you and I have time to see."

Turning back to Castiel, Dean nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Where are we heading?"

"It is just up ahead," Castiel replied in a low tone. "We must be careful. As I said, the Tree is protected. Follow exactly in my footsteps."

Dean looked down and tried to put his boots in the exact same spot as Castiel's well-worn shoes. It wasn't an easy task and took an enormous amount of focus, which was difficult, as he'd driven all day and fought with Piruz before being thrust into the Garden of Eden. Wobbling slightly once or twice, he used nearby tress to steady himself as he continued through the shaded garden.

When they'd walked for several minutes, Castiel stopped and said, "The Tree is here."

Dean kept a few feet back from where Castiel stood and looked up … and up. "Wow." About fifty-five feet in front of them was a massive tree. It stood tall and wide, the trunk straight and perfectly barked for least seven yards before branches began to split off. Mixed in with the leafy branches were splotches of color that hung from inch long stems. Fruit, Dean thought, shaking his head in amazement. The fruit wasn't round, but more elliptical in shape. From what he could see on a couple of the lower branches, the top of the fruit near the stem was a delicate pink, which rounded downward into a rose, then a ruby followed by a darker red band at the middle. The red then flowed into a plum color then a purple, finishing in a blackish color at the base. For a brief moment he wondered what it tasted like, the quickly banished the thought. It was that kind of thinking that got mankind into trouble in the first place. His gaze went to the leaves clustered around the fruit, and he instantly recognized their shape. He'd seen them when the seed from the cocobolo wood boxes had sprouted. But here, his mind wasn't on fire; anxiety, pain, anger and sorrow didn't press in on him as it had in the hotel.

"You are in the Garden of Eden," Castiel explained, as though he understood what had happened to Dean in the hotel room.

Dean couldn't look at his friend. "You saw?"

"I am always watching out for you," Castiel said earnestly. "I am proud you survived your time in hell, and of what you have achieved in your lifetime." Instead of waiting for Dean to reply, he looked up at the Tree. "The power of the Tree is meant for here, nowhere else."

"If the Tree is here, how do we have one in our space?"

Castiel started to reply, but instead suddenly took a step forward and stared.

"Cas?" Dean asked. "What?"

"Do not come closer," Castiel warned. "To do so would alert the guardians."

Dean smirked. "I'm a Guardian."

A small smiled tugged at Castiel's lips though he didn't reply. Walking another few steps, he stared up at one of the lower branches. "Not possible," he murmured.

"What?" Dean asked.

Castiel turned and followed his own footsteps back to Dean. He touched Dean's shoulder and they were back with Pastor Jim and Joel.

"What did you see?" Dean asked immediately upon reappearing. Swallowing hard, he put a hand to his stomach. He really did hate going anywhere Angel Air.

"A limb from the Tree was severed and grew back."

"Can you grow an entire tree from a limb?" Joel asked.

"Yes," Pastor Jim interjected. "I have replanted many saplings that have grown into strong trees."

"Then we have our answer," Dean said.

Castiel tilted his head to the side, his eyes focused elsewhere. "You need to leave, now."

Pastor Jim turned to Dean and said, "Focus on Sam and Caleb."

Dean didn't move for a moment; just stood there before Pastor Jim. "I miss you," he said suddenly.

"And I you, my dear boy."

Dean swallowed hard and looked away from Pastor Jim's tear-filled eyes to Castiel. "And I miss you. I wish…" he broke off with a shake of his head. "No, you're right where you need to be."

Castiel smiled. "I watch over you all the time; you, Sam, Caleb, Joshua, you're children; all of you. And some day, we will be here together." Stepping forward, he said, "I look forward to that day, my friend."

"As do I," Dean whispered, giving the angel a quick hug. Stepping back, he cleared his throat and said, "Now, you two better get back before you get into trouble for being in Eden."

Joel stepped forward and held out his hand. Taking Pastor Jim's, saying, "Thank you, for everything."

"You've done well, Joel," Pastor Jim said with a smile. "Very well indeed. Keep up the good work."

Joel nodded and stepped away.

Castiel said, "It is time." Turning to Dean, he said, "I will be waiting."

Dean nodded as both Pastor Jim and Castiel winked away.

Sighing, Dean walked forward a step, looking at the now empty space where Jim and Castiel had stood just a moment before. Jim visiting his dreams was one thing, but seeing him in person… It had been so long; so long since he'd seen Castiel as well. How he missed them both.

Joel ran a hand through his hair, saying, "So, you can get us out of here?"

"I suppose so," Dean said, straightening his shoulders. "Okay, pray this works." Closing his eyes, he focused on bridging the gap between him and Caleb and Sam. _Bring me to Sam_, he thought; _bring me to Caleb. I need Sam and Caleb_. He focused on the Tigris River, water pounding over rocks and the depth of sand beneath the water. He pictured the Euphrates, that ancient body of water that flowed from Eden, and he pictured Sam and Caleb and his desire to be with them.

Suddenly a window opened in front of him. On the other side a silver path cut through the darkness. It was night, and he couldn't see much through the portal opening. Dean wondered how much time had passed since he'd been drawn into the Garden. Were Sam and Caleb still in the park where they'd fought Piruz? The window grew larger, edged this time in silver. To Joel, he urged, "Go!"

Joel hesitated. The last time he'd gone through one of those portals, he'd ended up in the Garden of Eden.

"Go!" Dean ordered, focusing hard to keep the window open and viable.

Joel went into action and dove through the window.

Dean stepped forward, turned back for one last look at the incredible beauty that was Eden, and jumped.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_summerb7l21: While I'm so glad this tale can offer you a distraction during this time, know that my heart has tears for you and your family. I'm so sorry for your loss. _

_Band Names - Charlie Watts: Drummer for Rolling Stones / __Bruce Dickenson: Lead Singer Iron Maiden / David Gilmore: Lead Guitarist for Pink Floyd / Bill Ward: Drummer Black Sabbath / John Paul Jones: Bassist/Keyboardist Led Zeppelin / James Hetfield: Vocalist /Guitarist Metallica_


	21. Chapter 21

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 21

.

Jarring pain reverberated up his legs and through his body as Dean landed on the other side of the portal. His boots had connected with something hard and unforgiving. Since he'd been expecting lawn-covered trash, it was disconcerting. Grunting, he stumbled forward. As the window closed, he immediately winced as a cacophony of noise and activity assaulted his ears. A hand on his shoulder had him reacting instinctively with his fist. He connected with an open palm, and realized Joel was standing a few feet away, his hand in the air. Nodding that he was okay, he turned and looked around. Frowning, he shouted over the noise, "Where the hell are we?"

"Damned if I know," Joel shouted back, his eyes searching the darkness around them. There was a whole lot of blackness on one side, then blackness peppered with low lights on the right. Behind them were several long buildings. "Looks like … an airport?"

Dean grunted. It wasn't often he viewed an airport from what looked like the runway. Suddenly he spun around and looked upward into the distance. He wondered if he could detect the distant taillights of a plane in the sky, or if it was just his imagination. "Damn it," he murmured.

Suddenly lights shown on them from what looked like a utility building, and the sounds of an engine revving assaulted his ears. Dean tugged on Joel's arm and they started jogging in the direction of the building. They'd only gone a few yards before a cart stopped beside them and a man stepped out. "What in the hell are you doing out on the runway? A plane just took off and another is taxiing onto the tarmac, you idiots. You could have been hurt!"

Dean rolled his eyes slightly as Joel asked, "Got a solution for that?"

The man looked disgruntled but growled, "Get in the damn cart."

Dean swung into the front seat beside the grumpy driver while Joel climbed into the back. After they'd gotten on their way, Dean asked, "Which airport is this?"

The man gave him an incredulous look. "You're strolling around runways and don't know where you are?"

"Humor me," Dean groused. He knew they must look like loonies, walking around on the runways, but he wasn't about to explain that they'd just come back from the Garden of Eden.

The man heaved an exasperated sigh. "You're at Newark Liberty International Airport."

Frowning, Dean craned his neck to better survey the runway where they'd been standing. "This is the private terminal."

The man nodded.

Dean sighed. He knew it. Caleb, Sam and Adam must have just taken off for Lebanon. His heart clenched a little that they hadn't waited for him. "What time is it?"

Their driver glanced over, but supplied, "Almost two in the morning."

Dean didn't ask any more questions. The questions he wanted to ask couldn't be answered anyway. Like were Sam and Caleb all right, was Adam unhurt, did Piruz get away? And one question that couldn't help hovering at the edges of his mind, a relic from a broken youth; had they tried to find him before leaving?

The cart pulled up near a door, and their driver got out. Walking forward, he flashed a card before a blinking light and pulled open the door. "You two can go through here. It's the employee locker and break rooms. Go down the corridor, take your first right. When you reach the end of that hallway, you'll step out into the Main Terminal."

Dean turned and held out his hand, giving the other man's a hearty shake. "Thank you for coming to get us. If you ever need anything, give me a call." He handed over a card which carried his name and phone number.

The man frowned. "Why would I need anything?"

Joel gave the man a quick pat on the shoulder as he passed by. "You never know, buddy."

Nodding, the man said abruptly, "Lou Moretti."

"Joel Neubridge," Dean said, jerking his chin in the direction of the retreating man. "Dean Winchester; pleased to meet you, and thanks again." Nodding once, he turned and followed Joel down the corridor. They met up at the right hallway and were soon through a set of double doors and into the Main Airport Terminal. Joel immediately bee-lined it to a Wanderlust Burger Bar. Shaking his head, Dean followed.

When they'd each gotten a burger and coffee, they sat down and began eating.

"Hmmm," Joel moaned in ecstasy. "I have missed grease."

Dean smiled, tucking into his own burger.

After swallowing, Joel said, "So, you know why we came out of Eden at the airport?"

Dean chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "We took on Piruz at Freshkills Park in Staten Island, then we were heading to Lebanon Kansas."

"Why there?"

"It's the center of the spell." Forestalling Joel's questions, he said, "I'll explain everything later. It was a twenty-one hour drive without stops, so Caleb convinced us to fly."

Joel nodded thoughtfully as he took another couple of bites. Finally, he said, "So, the Guardian magic did work; it took us to Caleb and Sam. But they were on a plane."

"Looks like," Dean said distantly.

Joel eyed the other man, then dropped his eyes back to his burger.

The pair didn't talk as each man finished his food and coffee. Finally, Joel leaned back and asked, "So, what's the plan?"

Dean was having a bit of a hard time shaking off his feeling of abandonment. But Daniel had believed Joel was dead when he disappeared. It made sense that Caleb and Sam would think he was gone, and would have felt duty bound to continue on to Lebanon to finish Piruz and head off country-wide chaos. Still, feelings were always harder for him to muscle into line than logic. Clearing his throat, he said, "First, I send a text to Sam and Caleb, asking why they left us here."

Joel laughed, as he knew Dean wanted him to. "They won't get it on the plane."

Sighing, Dean nodded. "I know."

"Are we going to fly and catch up, or drive?"

"Let's check the flights to Lebanon."

Joel pulled out his cell, but it was dead. Rising, he walked to the nearest Terminal counter and spoke to the man behind the desk.

Dean fished into his pocket and pulled out his own cell. Growling, he saw that it too was dead. He knew it had been fully charged, a necessity in their world, but thought maybe being in Eden had short-circuited it, somehow. Glancing around the Terminal, he looked for a charging station, but figured those were most likely situated at the gates. Rising slowly, his body tired and worn, he walked to a row of payphones. Pulling out his credit card, he slipped it into the pay slot and waited for the ringtone. Quickly he punched in the numbers for Sam's cell. Of course, it went to voicemail. He left a message, then dialed Caleb. After leaving a second message, he headed back to the table. A couple minutes later Joel walked up.

"There are a couple of regional airports near Lebanon, but apparently not many airlines fly there. We can book a flight on some of the smaller airlines, but they won't leave until tomorrow afternoon."

Dean got back on his feet, saying, "Then I guess we're driving."

"You want to rent a car?"

Smiling, Dean shook his head. "We'll drive mine."

Joel looked surprised as he followed Dean through the Terminal to the arrivals doors. Before they left, Dean stopped at a map outlining the parking areas. VIP parking was directly outside the Arrival Gates, and he knew that's where Caleb would leave the Impala. The man couldn't help it; he went VIP all the way. Turning, Dean led the way outside and across the arrivals lanes into the parking structure. Heading directly for the elevators, he hit a button and waited only a moment before climbing on board. Pressing the first floor button, he leaned back against the car as the elevator doors closed and yawned.

"Where are we going?"

"The VIP parking lot," Dean said. "That's where the car is."

"You know that, how?"

"Because that's where Caleb and Sam would have parked her."

Joel shrugged. So much had happened over the last few days that he was finding being back rather surreal. His mind kept going back to the serenity of the garden; the incredible green fields, sleeping between mountain cats, the delicious fruit, the incredible peace of the place. When he was there he'd been ready to go home. Now that he was back, he found all the noise and lights of the world, something he'd always taken for granted, rather overwhelming. It was familiar, but he couldn't get over how quickly he'd become accustomed to the serenity of the Garden.

The bell tinged and the doors opened. Dean stepped out, looked around and smiled. The Impala sat right near the elevator doors; black, beautiful and still slightly banged up from Piruz kicking the crap outta her. Fishing the keys from his pocket, he unlocked the front door and climbed inside. Leaning across the front bench, he unlocked the passenger's side door.

Joel swung himself in and settled against the dark leather. Within twenty minutes, they were heading out of New York toward Kansas.

Quickly Dean realized the going wouldn't be incident free: they passed the carcasses of two SUVs and a sedan on the side of the road. Considering the rise in unrest in the country, he knew there would be more. They'd only been on the road for a couple of hours when he pulled off at a Pilot Truck stop for gas. He topped off the tank then handed the keys over to Joel. "You okay to drive?"

Joel nodded. "I'm good. It was daytime in the garden when you got there. I slept last night. Or this morning," he corrected, frowning. "Damn, I'm going to have to get acclimated to a time change."

Dean grinned. "You're home. You're gonna get back on track fast."

Joel just nodded and climbed behind the wheel. "You set?"

Dean slid into the passenger's seat. Shifting uncomfortably, he fitted himself into the corner of the seat near the window and relaxed. Instead of closing his eyes, he glanced over at the other man. "You good?"

Joel pulled onto the Interstate and got comfortable behind the wheel before he answered. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just…" he broke off, arranging his thoughts. After all, they had surprised him. "I spent a lot of time trying to find a way out of that garden." Frowning, he focused on the darkened road, glad that most of the traffic was in their rear view. "Now that I'm back, I kind of miss being there. It was peaceful, calm, uncomplicated. It's crazy, I know."

"No," Dean said softly. "I understand. I felt that peace, and I was only there for a short time."

"We have a job to do here, but being back has made me think of what I'd like for me, for Daniel someday. I want us to have families, partners, to have a home like you have." Joel glanced at Dean, then quickly shifted his eyes forward. "I want a home."

"You deserve it," Dean stated. They didn't speak for several minutes as the Impala ate up the highway. Finally he said, "Don't wait."

Joel glanced over, surprised Dean was still awake.

"I never thought I'd have a family," Dean confided softly. "No one was more surprised than me that I found one. Don't wait; find your peace here, have your family. Having something else in your life besides hunting is important. It's a constant reminder of why we fight."

Joel didn't reply, and a couple minutes later he heard Dean's breathing deepen and knew the other man was finally asleep. Slouching back in the driver's seat, he relaxed. Like Dean, he loved driving. Loved the solace it provided for thinking and planning. He needed some time to regroup. Now that he was back, he realized the peace he'd felt in Eden was precious. He wanted to recapture just a bit of that peace here. He and Daniel had hunted full time for years. It was time for each of them to leave the past in the past. Yeah, it was time they had balance in their lives.

* * *

Following the battle in Freshkills Park, Piruz headed back to the home where he'd arranged for a bed, seething in anger. The Warriors had put up much more of a fight than he'd anticipated, especially considering their former encounter had given him valuable insight into their capabilities. He needed healing and rest before he could head to the center, to the place where all his work would be completed.

Once back in his plush room, he unpacked his herbs and spices. Focusing his inner reserves, he healed the bruises and contusions to his body and his soul, then worked to create potions that would speed a more complete healing. Tired and exhausted, he took great care to ensure his ingredients were added in the right measure and correct order. Upon completion, he took the potions one at a time, feeling stronger in body as he ingested each vial of liquid. Grimacing slightly at the taste of the last one, he reached up slowly and unbuttoned the shirt he wore. Slowly he shed the rest of his soiled clothing and stepped into the bathroom to wash away the dirt, grime and sweat of the fight. When he returned to the bedroom, he was ready to check on his spell.

Pulling the large scroll from his leather duffel, he unrolled it over the surface of the bed. Sprinkling some herbs over the parchment, he murmured an incantation and the map showcasing the Tree became visible. From even here he could feel the Tree vibrating with barely controlled energy. Next he checked his ring of boxes. All remained secure save for the four Merlin's Chosen had removed. If they thought their loss would disrupt the spell, they were mistaken. The boxes that remained were strong enough to accomplish their task.

Now, where were Merlin's Chosen Warriors. They were not the only ones who could track. It was possible he should have tracked them sooner, but in truth, he hadn't felt the need. However, their whereabouts could not remain a mystery at this stage in his plan. The battle tonight had revealed their formidable strength, yet he had been a match for them. What he hadn't expected from the night was the loss of Merlin's Child. His intention had been to eliminate the witch. The confounding and misdirection spells had interfered with his own battle strategy. He hadn't thought Merlin's Child would reach the witch before his window took him. That he had and the witch had been saved was a surprise. But while Merlin's Child was gone, two Warriors remained. But they would find their way blocked and barred. He would not fail a third time.

**.**

_Northeastern Poland 1654 - The Second Failure_

Piruz stood outside the town of Suchowola near Bialvstok in Poland. This was considered the geographical center of Europe, the largest power on earth in the seventeenth century. He had worked and waited six generations before he felt he could perfect the Chaos Spell and control the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And with Merlin long dead, it was time to put his plan into action.

"Deja lo que estás haciendo." _(Stop what you are doing.)_

Piruz whirled around and stared at three men standing in attack formation. The tall, black-haired man in the center held a sword of brightest silver. The man to his right was slightly shorter, with broad shoulders and a narrow, pointed beard. He held a large blade, cold steel with a black stone handle, a red marking adorning its side. On the left of the center was a third man, with brown hair, a clean-shaven face and sharp, black eyes. In his left hand he held a long, slender rapier, and several spell pouches in his right.

The man with the spell pouches took a step further to his left, his stance relaxed and ready. "No puedes hacer esto. Destruiría millones de vidas." _(You cannot do this. It would destroy millions of lives.)_

Piruz blinked. Turning around more fully, he eyed the three men and knew; they were from Merlin. Not fully understanding their language, he still replied in Latin, "Et hoc non potest non prohibere." _(You cannot stop me.)_

The tall man with the large silver sword focused his attention, not on the wizard, but on the large, beautiful Tree standing in the narrow valley. After a moment, he leaned slightly to the right and murmured something to the man with a large blade balanced in his hand.

"Podemos," said the man holding the spell bags. "Y lo haremos." _(We can and we will.)_

Suddenly the warrior with the large stone blade reared back and hurled his blade with deadly accuracy, not at Piruz, but directly at the Tree. The blade penetrated hilt-deep into the trunk. It was like the Tree screamed in agony. Red sap poured from the trunk and the branches twisted as though in pain. Chaos snapped out like locust trampling a wheat field.

Piruz stared at the Tree in shock before whirling around, shouting, "madha faelt!?" _(What have you done!?)_

The man with the spell bags stepped forward and answered in Latin, "Salvus vitae." _(Saved lives.)_

Face a mask of rage, Piruz shouted, "Vos non succedent!" _(You will not succeed!)_ Pulling in the power of the earth, he threw a wave of power at the men, a wave of magic that shook the very trees to their roots. When the power cleared, the three men remained standing, and the blade that had penetrated the Tree was once more in the burly man's grip.

"Y tú tampoco," said the man in the center. _(And neither shall you.)_

The man with the pouches hurled them quicker than lightening, and the three men charged.

**.**

It had been a mighty battle, with one of Merlin's chosen falling that day. But in the end they had been victorious and Piruz had stepped back through his window to escape. After days spent giving vent to his anger, and then recovering his strength, he had focused his attention to how the three had stopped his magic. His was a formidable power, yet twice he had failed. Two questions plagued him: the first, how had Merlin and his Warriors tracked him in both centuries? The second, how had they stopped him? He had made no mistakes in his spell work, of that he was certain. Maybe the fault lay in his method of protecting his plan against Merlin's gifted Warriors. That was it; he was guilty of hubris.

Even still, in the present age he was forced to admit that Merlin's Warriors were a formidable element in the world. But he knew who they were and what they could do, and of one thing he was certain: they would not best him this time.

Sprinkling a ruby powder over the map spread out across his bed, he sent his magic out through the city, seeking the psychic energy he'd felt from the two Warriors. He began at the Park where they'd dueled, then reached outward. There was no trace of the two men. Frowning, he focused beyond the city and yet, they remained elusive. Pushing his magic further, he finally detected a wisp of the Warrior with the knife high above the earth. He knew about machines that allowed people to sail through the air, but had never chosen to travel that way. Frowning, he focused on the air ship and its direction, then suddenly froze in shock. Rage warred with the realization that they were heading for the center. They knew! It wasn't possible! He'd been so careful this time, covering every step he made in obfuscation and confusion. Yet still, he had been discovered. Gritting his teeth, he vowed that Merlin's two would not get there, not if he could help it.

Digging into his leather case, he pulled out a small pouch. Loosening the leather thong, he poured several black stones out onto the surface of the map. Touching the stones, he focused on the flying machine. Piruz murmured a spell and used his magical power to hurl it towards the air machine. They would not find sailing through the skies an easy task now. Next he readied a second spell, one that would strengthen the fortresses he'd placed around the Tree. Pulling several pouches, bottles and a second scroll from his duffel, he placed them on the bed surface. While Merlin's remaining two fighters may be formidable, he _had_ learned from his past encounters with Merlin and his chosen fighers. This time he was much better prepared, and he would prevail. When he finished adding further securities to his center, he sanded the map with a red powder and murmured, "qarib." _(Close.)_

Sighing, he placed his tools back inside his duffel and dropped onto the mattress, exhausted. Yes, Merlin's remaining Warriors now knew of his plan; they knew the location of the Tree. Yet still, he was stronger. Though he hadn't needed the additional layers to his spell, he hadn't let hubris color his judgment on this engagement. He had listened to the past and had strengthened his fortifications. Now, he needed to rest. He wouldn't allow himself the full measure of rest he may have desired, but rest he would if he were to finish the task he had set for himself several millennia ago. Another day and the spell would be complete, and Merlin's Chosen would be defeated. And then the Warriors would kneel before him and they would thank him for ridding their world of evil. They would be grateful, or they would die. He would not have it any other way.

* * *

Caleb griped the armrests of his chair as the Hawker jerked suddenly to the side then abruptly dropped like a stone through the air.

Sam gave an involuntary, "Whoa!" as the plane jerked to the right.

Caleb twisted around in his seat to view Sam and Adam. "You two all right?"

Sam and Adam were both staring out the windows of the jetliner. "I don't see any clouds," Sam stated, his injured arm steadied with his good hand. The plane jerked again and he winced as his ribs complained.

"Magic," Adam murmured as he jerked away from the window. A bolt of lightning had just daggered down the side of the plane, close but not touching the jetliner's exterior. Blinking to clear his vision, he said, "This isn't weather. It's a spell."

Caleb rose, then abruptly stumbled to the right, quickly reseating himself in the chair across the aisle. Turning, he called to Adam over the noise of the wind battering the windows. "Can you do anything to calm things down?"

"Maybe," Adam stated. Rising, one hand gripped tightly to the back of the chair, he reached up and flipped the latch on the overhead compartment. Pulling his duffel out, he snapped the compartment closed and lurched up the aisle to where Sam was sitting by the compartment table.

"Need some help?" Sam asked.

"In a minute," Adam murmured, opening his duffel.

Caleb stood once more and made his way slowly to the cockpit. Rapping once on the door, he opened it and stuck his head inside. "You okay, Michael?"

Michael Foster was pale, his face set as he wrestled with the controls. "I'm okay. Need to concentrate."

"Things should calm down in a minute. Hang in there." Caleb closed the door and made his way back to where Sam and Adam were working over some herbs; mainly Adam worked while Sam was attempting to keep the ingredients on the table with one hand.

Adam added a pinch of turquoise powder to a thick mixture of herbs and spices. Then he closed his eyes and began murmuring an incantation in what sounded to Sam and Caleb like a Native American dialect.

Sam was holding the bowl over which Adam was working. Thus, when the plane suddenly slammed to the left, it was Caleb who kept the remaining ingredients on the table.

Looking at Sam, whose face was white with pain, he asked softly, "You all right?"

It took a moment, but Sam finally nodded. "Yeah."

Caleb nodded and turned his eyes on Adam.

The witch spoke another few words under his breath, then lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. A spiral of white and turquoise smoke wafted upwards, then burst into sparkling lights that darted out the sides of the plane. Instantly the lightening that had been jabbing perilously close the jetliner stilled. Opening his eyes, Adam pushed the bowl toward Sam and pulled another from his duffel. This time he mixed several herbs, expertly crushing the seeds with a pistil and adding several different types of leaves and oils. Finally he poured in a thick, ruby-colored oil from a small carafe. Quickly he slid from his chair, only to fall sideways as the plane gave another turbulent jerk.

Caleb caught Adam's arms and prevented him from falling, using his elbow to steady the bowl.

Adam nodded and lowered himself to the carpeted floor. Placing the bowl down, he looked to Caleb, who immediately got down beside him, lending his hands to secure the bowl. Once again, Adam closed his eyes and began the incantations he had learned and mastered long ago. He spoke to the wind and asked it to calm, to the clouds and asked for their shelter, and to the Great Father above to guard their way. Pouring more liquid into the bowl, he then lit another match and dropped it atop the mixture inside.

A powerful whoosh exploded upward from the bowl and went out through the shell and skin of the plane into the atmosphere, and abruptly the wind calmed. Though they were still buffeted about, the worst of the magical storm had eased.

"Well done," Caleb murmured.

Adam smiled and nodded. "I'll need to do that again before we land, or his magic will regain a grip on the plane. But we should be fine for now."

Caleb climbed to his feet. Looking over at Sam, he said, "He knows."

Nodding once, Sam watched as Caleb helped Adam to his feet. "Yeah, he does."

"That means he'll be coming to Lebanon, fast."

.

Caleb's jetliner touched the tarmac in Nebraska just before six in the morning, each man on board shaken after a harrowing flight and grateful to be on the ground once more. The sudden onset of such an intense storm out of nowhere had been a surprise to everyone. Lightening had snapped around the plane, gales buffeted, and the wind shear had been brutal. Several times the plane had spiraled nearly out of control, only to be tussled back level by the skills of their combat-trained pilot. Adam had worked his magic twice more before they'd landed. Somehow, Piruz had discovered where they were headed and had called on the elements to stop them.

Adam gingerly unlocked his seatbelt as though cautious to believe the worst was over. "I am very thankful to be on the ground," he said.

"I'm glad Caleb hired the best pilot around," Sam agreed, "and that we had you on board to help."

"I didn't do much, but thank you."

"We're on the ground safe and sound," Caleb stated. "Your magic helped a lot."

The cockpit door opened and their pilot, Michael Foster, walked out.

Caleb looked up. "Nice job, Michael. Outstanding flying.

Michael, looking more than a little worn around the edges, wiped a hand over his face. His hair was standing on end, his necktie was loose, and the collar of his usually spit-and-polished shirt was wet with sweat. "I still have no idea where that storm front came from. One minute it was clear skies, the next a storm worthy of the heading Tropical Storm." Shaking his head lightly, he asked, "You want me to wait here, Mr. Reaves?"

"Are you okay for another run?"

Michael nodded. "If it's short. I'll need to rest soon after last night."

Caleb nodded. "Agreed. I'll let you know in a minute. I might have you fly to Louisville and bring Joshua, Onida and the others here. It's only an hour flight. After that, you're off the clock."

Central Nebraska Regional Airport was a ninety-mile drive from Lebanon Kansas. With a population of only three hundred people, not much in the way of commercial transportation went though Lebanon, and Nebraska Regional was the closest they could get.

Sam walked up behind Caleb and said, "Why don't you call Joshua now?"

Caleb wagged his cell in the air. "Dead. I had Michael arrange for an SUV."

Sam frowned and checked his own phone. Eyes wide in surprise, he said, "Mine too." He'd just walked to Mary a few hours ago, and it had worked fine.

Caleb leaned past Sam and told Adam, "I'll be right back. Need to make a phone call."

Adam stood, saying, "You can use my cell."

"It's probably dead," Caleb said, figuring the magic that had been bouncing all over Freshkills Park had probably drained their cells. While there'd been enough charge for a short call, the magic-thick air of the park plus the magical bombardment on the plane had probably shorted all their cells. They would need new batteries. Turning, he jogged down the stairs and across the asphalt into the Terminal doors.

Michael said, "I'll be in the cockpit. I want to lay in a flight plan to Louisville, just in case."

Sam nodded. Pocketing his phone, he leaned over and slowly slid his duffel from beneath his chair. Adam stood and pulled his from the overhead compartment.

"Guess we wait here," Sam said, his voice rough and deeper than usual.

Adam nodded. He still felt as though he were to blame for Dean's death, and he hated hearing the sorrow in Sam's voice.

Sam eyed the other man, and smiled. "I know how you feel."

Startled, Adam asked, "How do you mean?"

"Responsible, like if you hadn't been there, Dean would be here. If you'd moved faster, shifted quicker, run further he would be alive." Sam shook his head. "But nothing you could do or ever do would stop Dean from being exactly who he is."

Adam stared at the other man a moment, then sighed. "A hero," he whispered.

Sam gave the other man a weary smile. "It's hard to bear, being saved by a hero. I should know; Dean's been saving me my entire life."

"In the time I've known you both, I would say the saving is mutual," Adam countered.

"Maybe," Sam admitted softly, "here and there."

* * *

Joshua leaned quickly over to the night stand and touched the face of his cell, silencing the ringer. Rising, he walked into the kitchen and answered. "Hello?"

"Josh, its Caleb."

Joshua peered down at his cell. "I don't recognize the number. Where are you calling from? Are you all right?"

Ignoring Joshua's question, Caleb barked, "Where are you?"

"Louisville," Joshua answered. "We were so close that we came home instead of stopping at a hotel. Onida's at your place and Daniel's at the Inn. Raylan sent you a text; he's gone to California."

Caleb sighed. Since his phone was dead, he hadn't gotten the text. "All right. I'm sending the plane for you. It's quicker if you fly to Nebraska then drive to Lebanon. We'll be waiting."

"Nebraska?"

"It's the closest airport to Lebanon, and there are hotels nearby where we can stay and not be noticed."

Joshua frowned. There was something wrong in Caleb's tone. "What's wrong?"

"Josh…"

"What's wrong," Joshua repeated insistently, his voice rising.

Caleb sighed. "Dean."

Joshua didn't need for Caleb to elaborate. He knew instantly. "What?" he stuttered.

"Piruz's window, the same window that took Joel."

Joshua felt the world around him fade slightly. The words _not possible_ kept whirling through the buzzing in his head.

"He was gone so fast," Caleb murmured, his voice cracking slightly.

"We…"

"We'll get him back," Caleb stated. "I won't rest."

Joshua's eyes closed; in denial, in weariness, in pain. They hadn't really lost anyone in such a long time, they'd grown complacent. But Dean … he couldn't be gone. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "We will. In the meantime I'll call Elijah and Ethan, then we'll head to the airport."

"Why Elijah and Ethan?" Caleb questioned somewhat aggressively. Elijah had been Dean's choice for Guardian before he'd gone to hell. It seemed bad luck to talk about the other man right now.

"We could use their support, especially if another coven is under Piruz's control," Joshua stated. When Caleb didn't speak, he finished, "I'll be with you soon."

Caleb swallowed hard and nodded, "Yeah," he murmured as he replaced the receiver of the pay phone back in its slot and closed his eyes to prevent the tears that were threatening to fall, inside. He couldn't break; not now. They had a witch to kill before they could go get Dean, and get him back they would. If any Triad knew how to do the impossible, it was theirs.

**.**

Joshua and Onida walked quickly into the terminal of Bowman Field Airport. Joshua had contacted Michael Foster, Caleb's pilot, and knew the Hawker was already fueled and ready for takeoff. There had been a slight delay in scheduling an arrival in Nebraska, as getting a landing time wasn't as easy as taking off from a private airport. That fact that Nebraska Central was a Regional airport rather than an International Airport had made it possible.

Daniel had chosen to drive on in the Tourer, feeling that since Elijah and Ethan were coming, they might need the vehicle space once they arrived. He'd left Louisville at six-thirty in the morning, and was expected to be in Hastings Nebraska by seven that evening. Raylan had heard from Kace Brandt, who was out of the hospital, the night before. California monster activity had risen alarmingly. He'd asked if Raylan could lend a hand. Feeling the Triad could take care of the witch in Lebanon, Raylan had agreed to go. He'd checked in with Joshua and Alison, sent a text to Caleb, and had been able to book a rare non-stop flight from Louisville into Los Angeles, which had left at five in the morning.

Now it was Onida and Joshua heading in to Nebraska Central Airport with heavy hearts.

Approaching the gate, Joshua said, "Joshua Sawyer."

The gate attendant's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Sawyer, yes. You're cleared to board at your convenience." The young man gestured to a hallway at the rear left of the counter and said, "Fourth door on the right. The pilot will escort you to the plane."

Joshua, who was familiar with the terminal and their usual exit door, though not the new hire at the desk, merely nodded. "Thank you," he said, and followed Onida around the desk to the door.

Together they walked down the hallway, the silence a heavy blanket around their words and feelings. Joshua pushed open the door and saw Michael Foster standing near the base of the Hawker steps.

"Morning," Michael said with a smile. His smile faltered as the pair neared the stairs. "What's wrong?"

"Morning, Michael," Joshua said, giving the man a small smile. "Nothing we can't fix soon. When can we take off?"

After a brief hesitation, Michael said, "We're cleared as soon as you're in your seats."

"Thank you." Joshua waved Onida on and followed, Michael bringing up the rear.

Once inside, Joshua took a seat near one of the tables and pulled out his computer. There was a job that needed finishing. He had to find a way to get the seeds and Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil back to Eden, and he didn't have much more time to figure it out.

"You'll find a way."

Joshua looked up. Sighing, he said, "Thank you. I wish I felt more confident."

"You're task is not an easy one," Onida admitted. "How to move an object that shouldn't be here to a place you can't find."

"Thanks for the simplification," Joshua quipped, feeling as though he were channeling Caleb.

Onida smiled. "I don't know if this will help, but when I was young and Álxayx was training me to be the Yaotlapializtli of my people, I needed to study Energetics. Energetics teaches the different types of energy; thermal, radiant, electrical, gravitational, and how those energies move."

"Everything around us is energy," Joshua said.

"Right," Onida said. "Energy can be transferred from place to place by electrical currents, which can then be used locally to produce motion, sound, heat or light. That's how our system works. Now, uncontrolled systems always evolve toward more stable states, toward more uniform energy distribution."

Joshua leaned forward, nodding.

"Maybe that will work here," Onida suggested. "We know the Tree doesn't belong here. Maybe its energy is different and it will gravitate toward someplace where the energy is more the same." She watched Joshua's intent face. He wasn't giving away anything, so she added, "Maybe…?"

Joshua's mind was racing. They all knew the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil didn't belong in their world. He'd speculated yesterday that Piruz had contained the seeds within cocobolo wood boxes because they were returning to their source; the Tree. Could he use that somehow to return the Tree to Eden? Looking up, he said, "Thank you. I think that might help."

Onida smiled, relieved. "Good. Please, let me know if I can help with any research, all right?"

"You can figure out how to break open cocobolo wood boxes from hundreds of miles away."

Onida's eyes widened comically. "What?"

"We need to break through Piruz's magic and get the boxes to open so the seeds return to the Tree."

"And why would they magically return to the Tree from thousands of miles away?"

"Like energy," Joshua said wryly.

Nodding slowly, Onida repeated, "You think the Tree is the stable state the seeds need, so they'll return to a more uniform energy."

"I do."

"Then we better get to work," Onida said. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be easy."

"Who better to tackle the problem than a crafter and an energy specialist?"

Onida chuckled, leaning over and pulling her computer from her case. She certainly hoped Joshua was right.

* * *

Ethan rushed through shoving weapons and ammo into his duffel when the front bell rang. He heard his wife Connie speaking to someone, then laughing, and knew who it was. His hunch was confirmed a moment later when his twin brother walked down the basement stairs.

"You leaving Gideon in charge of the Southern Territory?" Elijah asked. Gideon was Ethan's oldest son, and the prospective Guardian of the secondary Triad should something happen to JT's. He was named in honor of Gideon Lane, the prospective Guardian of their own proposed Triad. He had died years before saving the true Guardian, Dean. His own son, Lane, was also named in honor of their fallen friend.

Ethan nodded. "He's already in touch with all the hunters in the area anyway. So he'll be directing traffic, sending teams to where they're needed." He looked over his shoulder. "You need him to take over yours as well?"

Elijah shook his head. "No, Micah is going to oversee the territory until Morgan gets there." Micah Fox was already in Florida, having taken over the teaching of sword fighting to hunters after the former master, Jessup, had passed away. Morgan Fox, his younger brother, was also a member of the second proposed Triad. Both were sons of longtime Brotherhood member, Silas Fox, who had been a close confidant of Mac and Dean in his later years.

"You call Max yet?"

"I sent him an email and left him a message. When I checked in with Alison this morning, she said JT, Max and James were on their way to Louisville. Ryker's already there, of course."

"Why? When was that?"

"Just after six," Elijah said, leaning against his brother's weapons cabinet. "She didn't say much, except that JT said they needed to get to Louisville. She said she'd give us an update when Joshua checks in. He's on his way to Kansas."

Ethan looked up, frowning. "Kansas? I thought Dean was tracking this wizard through North Carolina and New York?"

"They were, according to Alison." Elijah watched his brother a moment, then said, "Joshua got a call from Caleb this morning."

"Yeah?"

Elijah hesitated only a moment, before saying, "Dean's gone."

Ethan froze. "What?"

"Apparently the thing that happened to Joel happened to Dean late last night. Caleb got hold of Joshua this morning and said he and Sam were flying into Nebraska, which is close enough to Kansas for easy access. Joshua relayed the message to Alison."

Ethan didn't know what to say. So he just nodded, put one more knife in the duffel and zipped it up. Shouldering his bag, he said, "We'll need to change our flights from New York to Nebraska."

"Alison did that after hearing from Joshua."

"How is she?" Ethan asked.

"Wrecked," Elijah stated. "You know how she feels about Dean." There were several moments of silence before he said again, "Dean."

"I know," Ethan sighed. "We don't know that he's really gone."

"Caleb and Sam wouldn't have left New York if he wasn't," Elijah said softly.

"Then we'll get him back. It's been done before."

"And maybe what's dead should stay dead," Elijah countered.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded. "He was saved before."

"Dean went to hell because he couldn't accept that Sam was dead. Caleb used that amulet and Sam dallied around with a demon in order to save Dean." Elijah eyed his brother, his expression resolute. "I'm saying you and I need to make sure Caleb and Sam don't do something crazy to save him this time. If he's gone…" he broke off. It was difficult to say, especially about someone as vital and dynamic as Dean, but he went on anyway. "If he is gone, we need to protect them from themselves and let him stay gone."

Ethan wanted to rail at his brother, to argue, to put forth some defensible reason why dead wasn't really dead. In the end, he just closed his eyes. "Okay. But if what took Dean was magic, it may be able to be reversed. We'll talk to Joshua, to the coven. If it can't be, we protect Caleb and Sam from doing something reckless."

"That's all I'm saying."

Ethan walked across the basement. "When does our flight take off?"

"In an hour," Elijah said, following his brother up the stairs and into Ethan's kitchen. "I'm hoping we can use your siren to get there on time."

"That's an abuse of my authority."

"And when the situation called for it, since when has that been a problem?"

Ethan ignored him as he leaned in and gave Connie a kiss. "We should be back in the next couple days. If we're going to be longer, I'll call."

"Watch out for each other," Connie said, smiling though her usual worry showed in her eyes. "And use the siren on the way to the airport so you don't miss your flight. We'll talk about the abuse of your authority when you get home."

Elijah laughed and headed for the front door as Ethan said, "You're a bad influence."

"Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere else," Connie said, grinning. "That's why you married me."

Ethan pulled her into his arms and gave her a thorough kissing before stepping out onto the front porch. Looking to his brother, he said, "You ready?"

Elijah nodded. "They'll be okay."

"We all will. Let's get going."

* * *

Dean merged onto I-465 N/I-74 heading toward the Illinois border. They had made good time, considering both men had the speedometer closer to ninety than seventy nearly the entire night. Now Joel was stretched out as much as was possible in the back seat, asleep and Dean had taken over the driving. He was supposed to have woken the newly returned hunter an hour ago, but hadn't felt like turning over the wheel.

He wanted to get in touch with Sam and Caleb, but his cell was proving difficult to charge. He wondered if the magic they'd used in Freshkills Park had shorted out the circuits, or maybe cell phones and Eden didn't go together. He'd been able to get enough juice in the battery to give Caleb and Sam's cells one more try, then he'd had to put the phone on the charger again. His second attempt to reach someone had been Joshua. His phone had gone straight to voice mail. The only reason that would happen was if their Advisor was in the air. He'd left a quick message that he was fine before his phone had died again. After that they'd put Joel's cell on the charger. If the malfunction was Eden, they'd both need new phone batteries. If it was magic, Joel's phone should charge and then he'd be able to get in touch with Alison, who would contact the others.

Relaxed behind the wheel of his beloved Impala, Dean's mind went back to Eden, to the incredible beauty and peace of the Garden; and to seeing Pastor Jim and Castiel. He would have wanted to stay and talk to them for ages, but it would never have been enough. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Castiel until the angel had tilted his head in his usual bird-like manner. He smiled. It was so Cas, and he missed him all the more.

And seeing Pastor Jim with his own eyes, not in a dream... A lump rose in his throat. It was like going back through time; to dinners at the farm, dad and Mac in the living room watching a game over pizza, Atticus Finch and Scout lying beneath the table as he, Sam and Pastor Jim baked cookies. Caleb would loll at the table, too _cool_ to bake but not too grown-up to sneak a finger-full of dough from the bowl. He missed them all so much. But those memories would always be a part of him, and there were wonderful memories made at that table now too; Ben coming into their lives, JT and James eating dinner and telling him and Juliet all about their days at school. Of course, even those days were now in the past. But Caleb and Sam would always be at that table as long as he was around.

"Where are we?"

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror to see Joel sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Illinois."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Joel groused, clamoring over the seat and dropping into the front.

"Didn't feel like stopping," Dean remarked.

"Didn't feel like sharing the driving of this magnificent car, more like," Joel growled, reaching for his cell. "Bastard."

Dean grinned. "And proud of it."

Joel snorted. "I'm fully charged, at least for the moment. Now we'll see if Eden or magic killed your cell." Hitting a programmed number, he waited a second then said, "Alison, its Joel." After a moment he repeated, "Joel Neubridge. … No, I'm not dead. … No!"

Dean held out his hand. "Gimme."

"Hang on," Joel said, and passed over the phone.

"Alison, its Dean."

"Dean!?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Joshua said you were dead."

Dean sighed. "No, I'm not dead. We got pulled into the Garden of Eden."

Alison blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Long story and I want to do it justice. Can you get in touch with everyone, let them know I'm all right, that Joel is back and we're in Illinois on our way to Lebanon Kansas. I'll check back with you on where we'll meet."

"They're in Nebraska," Alison said, the smile evident in her tone.

"Nebraska?"

"Nebraska had the closest airport to Lebanon, and it's a better place to find a hotel."

Better for anonymity, as there would be several of them staying the night. "Okay, sounds good. We'll head there. Let everyone know we're on the way."

"Got it. Ethan and Elijah are heading that way as well. And Dean? Welcome back."

Dean eyed the silent cell a second before handing the phone back to Joel. "How's the battery?"

Joel looked down and said, "Still charged. Looks like magic drained the cells, not Eden."

Dean pulled off the freeway, heading for a truck stop and gas. When he'd pulled up at a pump, he said, "Why don't you go give Daniel a call; his cell should be working. If he's not in the air, he can let whoever he's with know we're all right." Wanting to give Joel a moment to reconnect with his hunting partner of so many years, he said, "I'm heading inside. Want some coffee?"

At Joel's affirmative, he turned and walked toward the convenience store. Suddenly, he stopped and rolled his eyes. Damn it, he had the best way to get in touch with Caleb and he hadn't done it. He was an idiot. While he wasn't psychic, Caleb's abilities had always been tuned in to him since they were kids. He hoped his going missing hadn't changed that. Hurrying to the side of the building, he thought, _Damien… _When he didn't hear anything back, he thought again, _Damien, you out there? Caleb, damn it!_

_Deuce…? _

Dean grinned. _I'm here_

_How? What happened? Where are you?_

_Got pulled into the Garden of Eden and found Joel there._

_Seriously?_

_Where are you?_

_Right now, just outside Lebanon Kansas._

_We're about seven hours from you near Springfield Illinois. Scope out the land and we'll see you soon._

_It's just great to hear your voice. Call when you can._

_Will do._

Dean grinned as he walked around the side of the building and continued inside the store, his heart lighter.

* * *

Caleb drove into Lebanon Kansas alone. He, Sam and Adam had decided three strangers entering a small town would create talk. _One_ stranger entering would create talk, but it was a better option. With Caleb going in, he would be able to scan the residents and get the overall vibe of the town, see if Piruz was already there.

"Like that worked so well last time," Sam said crossly. While he rarely volunteered to work the psychic angle, he also got irritated when Caleb _assumed_ he'd be the one doing it. It was a conundrum.

"Tell him his brother is alive, and he gets all pissy," Caleb stated to Adam, grinning.

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed slightly, though he smiled.

Since Caleb had gotten a connect with Dean, they had all been in a jubilant mood, as sorrow and anxiety fled in the joyous revelation that Dean and Joel were alive. Sam had immediately contacted Daniel, who said he'd just gotten off the phone with Joel.

Earlier after landing at the Nebraska Central Regional Airport, Caleb had picked up their rental and they'd been on the freeway when Dean's voice had sounded in his head. He'd nearly driven them off the road in his shock. Sure, he'd kept the connection open, but he hadn't expected to hear anything, not really. Since that moment a sense of elation and optimism had been their fourth road trip companion. Each man felt the sense of relief and easing of tension brought about by the news that Dean was alive.

Almost an hour later, Caleb pulled off at a truck stop. While Adam had been plying the Scholar with healing drafts during their ride, he knew that Sam needed some time to rest. Though most truck stops no longer had beds, many – including their current stop – had small nationally recognized motels on the lot. This one had a Days Inn. While they all wouldn't be booking into the Days Inn, he did rent a room so Sam could lie down and rest. After all, it would be another few hours before Onida could work her healing magic. After his reconnaissance trip, he would check the surrounding towns for more acceptable accommodations. After handing Sam and Adam key cards to their rooms, he took off for Lebanon alone.

Lebanon was definitely the encyclopedia definition of a dying rural Kansas town. Several store fronts along the main street were shuttered and empty, there were few people downtown even in the middle of the day, and those he did see had their heads down. After one circuit of Main Street, he turned around in the lot of an abandoned gas station and drove back, pulling to the curb in front of a local market named Ladow's. Taking his time, he slowly put the SUV into park and removed his seatbelt as he extended his abilities.

The faint muffled feeling he'd felt when he'd first entered Lebanon grew thicker, and he could now detect a fuzzy type of buzzing, like someone had put a glass jar around a firefly. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to sense anything through the fog. He shut down his senses again as he opened the car door. They would come back tonight when Sam could watch his back as they scouted the area. Climbing from the SUV, he gave an exaggerated stretch and walked into the store.

Ladow's was the perfect country store, right down to the aisles of canned goods, bags of sugar and flour, and other standard necessities.

"Can I help you?"

Caleb turned to see a man sitting on a stool behind the front desk, his wiry gray hair standing on end, his glasses crocked on his nose. Smiling, he said, "Do you have any prepared sandwiches?"

"Nope."

Nodding, Caleb tried again, "Coffee?"

"Aisle four."

"Nothing already brewed?"

"Nope."

Walking over, Caleb eyed the man. Typical rural character; probably lived in Lebanon his entire life and inherited the store from his father and his father's father before that. Lowering his blocks, he took a peek. He was right, in that the man and his wife had lived here their entire lives. His children had long ago moved away, but one son had planned on moving his family back to help his father and take over the business. The man, whose name was Abel Samuelsson had told him no. There was something going on, and he wanted his children way from here. He was nervous. Caleb wondered whether he should just open up, but decided against it. "Any place around here to get some food to go?"

The man didn't say anything for a full minute, and Caleb just waited him out. Finally he said, "Just passin' through?"

"On my way Lawrence," Caleb said, and winced slightly. It was the first Kansas city name that had popped into his head. "Visit my parents graves." In for a penny….

The man nodded. Finally he held out a hand and said, "Abel Samuelsson."

"Caleb Ames," Caleb said. Though he had legally changed his name to Caleb Ames years ago, he still went by Reaves. He didn't know why, but he felt saying _Reaves_ now would be a mistake.

"There's a diner around the corner at the end of Main Street. Go up to the gas station and make a right. It'll be the third door down on the right. They make terrific meatloaf sandwiches."

Caleb grinned. He hadn't had a meatloaf sandwich in years. "Excellent. I'm so hungry I could probably eat three. Before I leave, where is the center of the forty-eight states? I'd like to get a picture."

"You don't want to do that," Abel said quickly.

Caleb's smile faded. "Why not? Isn't that a major attraction for Lebanon?"

Abel's eyes flicked outside a moment, before he said quietly, "Get your meal and move on, Caleb. You don't want to be around here right now."

Caleb frowned. "Are you all right, Abel?"

Abel swallowed, and his eyes flicked out to the street again. If Caleb hadn't been watching, he would have missed the slight widening of the man's eyes. Immediately he reached around and snagged a loaf of cinnamon bread. Abel watched him a moment, then pulled up two cans of beer from behind the counter. Caleb nodded. He threw in a couple of candy bars and a beat-up banana, saying, "Can you ring these up for me, Mr. Samuelsson?"

Abel looked relieved as he turned and rang the items on his ancient cash register. Caleb handed over some cash and waited for his change. After dropping some coins into his pocket, he roamed the front of the store while Abel bagged his items. Casually he glanced out the large front windows and saw a woman standing on the sidewalk across the street. She was looking directly into the store, watching. Caleb tilted his head curiously, as he assumed anyone would if they found themselves being stared at.

"Here you go, Sir," Abel said, handing over a brown paper bag.

Caleb turned and smiled. "Thank you." Without another word he walked out of the store and climbed back into his car. The woman across the street didn't bother to hide the fact that she was staring him down. Before turning on the engine, he climbed back out and leaned into the car frame a little, calling out, "Can I help you, ma'am? Am I parked in the wrong spot?" He heard the door jingle behind him and knew Abel had stepped out his front door.

"That's just Mrs. Landon," Abel said. Stepping up close to the street. "Hello Mrs. Landon. Mr. Ames is heading to Lawrence Kansas, pay his respects to his parents who are buried there. He's just getting some food, so he won't be able to stay long and explore our fine town."

Mrs. Landon said nothing for several moments, then she simply turned and walked down the street.

Caleb was tempted to try and read her, but decided that would alert whoever had placed a spell over the town. Looking to Abel, brows raised in surprise, he said, "Thank you. I wasn't sure what to make of her."

"Don't worry," Abel said, though he was sweating profusely. "Just get your sandwiches and get on the road."

"Maybe I'll forget the sandwiches," Caleb said slowly as he climbed back into the SUV. He heard Abel said, "That would be better," before the door chimed shut. "Yeah, I agree," Caleb muttered, turning the engine over and driving out of town.

**.**

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 22

.

JT parked in a guest spot of Ryker's small Louisville apartment complex. It had been a long drive from the coast of North Carolina, and he was exhausted, but wired. The feeling that something in his world was out of joint had not diminished with the miles. He'd attempted to contact his father a few more times to no avail; and his texts to Caleb and Sam had remained unanswered. Through mounting worry, he refused to contemplate the worst. There were several reasons why his attempts to reach the Triad were unsuccessful, from being in a wireless dead space to broken cells. The oddity of all cells going dark was another thought he refused to dwell upon.

Climbing from the car, he stretched long and hard. He'd been tempted to head home, but didn't want to worry his mom. She would see right through his stalwart facade; she always had. Despite his determined calm, she would read everything in his eyes. It was a trait he and his father shared. Starting up the front steps to Ryker's apartment building, he felt it again: the sense that he should be somewhere else. Looking around, he pulled out his cell and sent his father another text. The silence, though not unexpected this time, was deafening. Sighing, he sent texts to both Caleb and Sam asking where they were. A moment later Caleb surprised him by answering: _Johnny, you all right?_

_Where are you; where have you been!?_

A moment later came the reply; _Nebraska; long story._

JT sent another text saying, _We're coming_.

Seconds ticked by before Caleb replied; _Roger that_.

_Dad?_

The pause was longer this time: _Not here yet._

JT frowned. The answer was oblique; neither alarming nor comforting. No one would have read anything into it, but they were in the monster hunting business. On a hunt, Caleb would be with his father. Instead of questioning it over the phone, he merely texted; _Send rendezvous address._

_Will do. Call when you're close._

_C u soon. _

Slowly he slipped his cell back into his pocket. He knew it: something was wrong. Sighing, he finished climbing the steps and banged on Ryker's door.

"Bout time you came in," Ryker remarked, pulling open the door and leaving it open as he headed back to where his duffel lay.

JT shut the door and walked over. "You heard from James and Max?"

"Their flight landed…" he checked his watch, "a half hour ago. They should be on their way to Max's."

JT pulled out his phone and texted them to meet at Ryker's. "We're leaving as soon as they get here."

Ryker looked up. "Something?"

"I just know we need to get to Nebraska as soon as possible. Something's happening, and it's big."

Without questioning how JT knew they were needed in Nebraska, Ryker started from the room, saying, "I should bring herbs, minerals and spices for potions."

JT could hear him rummaging in his spare bedroom. They'd all taken it in turns to sleep in there and had quickly learned to bed down in the living room. The smell of so many herbs and spices was too overwhelming for rest in such a confined space. Moving into the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of coffee and dropped onto one of the stools that fronted Ryker's small breakfast bar. Closing his eyes, he took a couple sips, hoping the hot brew would revive him. But after driving all night, his weariness would be a tough job for even the strongest caffeine to conquer.

"I'll drive when we get on the road," Ryker said, watching JT.

Opening his eyes, JT was mildly surprised to see that, unnoticed by him, his friend and Advisor had re-entered the room hauling a large duffel. Sighing, he nodded. "Yeah, that'd be a good idea." He glanced down at his watch again. "It's an eleven-hour drive from here, so we should get there about midnight."

"You let Dean know?"

JT's heart clenched for the same unknown reason he'd driven eleven hours nearly straight through. "No, I couldn't get hold of dad. I told Uncle Caleb we were coming."

Ryker nodded. Heading for the door, he merely said, "Keys," then caught the keychain lobbed in his direction.

Frowning, JT closed his eyes again and tried once more to sense where his feeling of unease and urgency was coming from. He wasn't psychic, he knew that. But Pastor Jim had told Dean - and his father had told him - that being the Guardian was like a nesting doll; there were always new gifts to explore. While he wasn't the Guardian, his father had said his _knowing things_, or sensing things, was his own gift and he should listen to his gifts. Well, his _gift_ was telling him to get to Nebraska.

Voices accompanied the opening of the front door, and Ryker walked in followed by James and Max. James immediately hurried over to JT and gave him a once over.

"You look like crap."

Smiling slightly, JT grumbled, "Thanks, little brother."

"Is dad all right?" James asked anxiously. The young man looked like the question had been on the tip of his tongue all night.

JT's immediate answer stalled in his throat. Instead of going for the patented Winchester, _he's fine_ response, he admitted, "I'm not sure, but I hope so." He didn't want to say that he'd left three messages and had yet received a return call. Their dad had never kept them waiting before.

Max came over. "What about dad?"

"Alison said Uncle Joshua and Onida flew to Nebraska early this morning. I don't know where they're staying yet, but Uncle Caleb will let us know when that's all sorted out." Standing, JT said, "Let's get going. We're going to have to drive straight through, so its two hours driving, then we switch it up. If the coast is clear, the posted speed limit is only a suggestion." Looking down at his watch, he continued, "It's just after twelve. We should be able to get to Nebraska about midnight if we hurry."

James stayed where he was, not letting his brother move to the door. "What's up?"

"Yeah, what's going on?" Max echoed.

A sense of irritation curled up JT's spine. He wanted … no, _needed_ to get going. But he recognized the others were worried as well and knew they deserved an answer. "We all know about the random chaos sweeping the country, and how that's affecting the supernatural world. And we know that a witch from the past is bent on creating enough chaos in the country to break down our system of government." He broke off a moment before adding, "As for right now, all I know is that we're needed in Nebraska by tomorrow or something bad is going to happen."

"Who've you got overseeing the East coast?" Max asked after a moment.

"I had a talk with Gideon early this morning; very early," JT remarked drolly. "He said his father asked him to watch over his territory, and Morgan was watching Elijah's. They added support to their own territories. Since we needed to restructure all of ours as well, I asked him to watch the East coast in my place, and for Morgan to coordinate the West coast. Lane will oversee both Elijah and Ethan's territories with Micah's help." Looking to Max, who usually oversaw the workings of hunters in the field, especially since Caleb had turned it over to him before they'd left to track the witch, he said, "Can you get in touch with everyone while we're driving, make sure all the territories have adequate coverage?"

Max nodded. "Did you call Alison?"

"Gideon sent an email with a preliminary restructure of the territories. After you two talk, I thought you could get in touch."

"Sounds good," Max said.

"Are Ethan and Elijah heading to Nebraska too?" James asked, trying for inquiring but only managing to showcase his mounting worry.

"I don't know," Max said with a slight shrug. "But I'd say it looks that way. Timing's coincidental, don't you think?"

No one spoke for a moment. There were so many unanswered questions, ones to which they wanted answers. But JT had had _feelings_ about things before, and they'd all learned to trust his instincts. Finally, Ryker grabbed up his personal duffel, saying, "I'll meet you in the car," and headed for the door.

Max nodded and followed their Advisor.

James just stood there beside JT, his eyes wide, his expression concerned. "Is dad all right?" he asked again.

JT felt his throat close slightly. "I'm not sure, but I hope so."

That was enough for James, who nodded solemnly and walked back out the front entrance.

JT followed. After giving Ryker's apartment a once over, he locked and closed the front door, following his Triad to the car.

* * *

Dean and Joel drove into Hastings Nebraska just before eight in the evening. When he pulled up to a Holiday Inn Express, Dean smirked, knowing there had been no Hilton properties in the small city. At the front entrance stood Sam, Caleb, Joshua, Onida, Adam and Daniel, all grinning. They rushed the car before Dean even had time to shut off the engine. Even Ethan and Elijah were standing there, huge smiles on their faces.

Pushing gently at the door, Dean climbed out, a grin covering his entire face.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, pulling his brother into a hug so huge, the air whooshed from Dean's lungs.

"Can't … breathe…" Dean huffed, frantically patting Sam's back. Sam let him go only for Caleb to swoop in and grab him into another strong hug.

"It's so good to see you," Caleb muttered before he let Dean go.

All the while Daniel was giving Joel the exact same treatment, his long-time friend gripped tight in his arms.

Joshua stepped up and engulfed Dean as fervently as the others, though in a somewhat less breath-constraining manner. "We thought you were gone."

"I'm back," Dean said, grinning and giving Joshua a short squeeze before they parted.

"We want to hear everything."

Adam stepped in and gave Dean's hand a hearty shake, an unusually wide smile replacing his usual stoicism.

Caleb and Sam were shaking Joel's hand while Onida stepped in and gave Dean a short, hard hug, her eyes brimming. "He was wrecked, thinking you were gone." Somewhat playfully she whacked him on the shoulder. "Don't do that again," she admonished.

"I'll try not to get sucked into the Garden of Eden again," Dean commented wryly, shaking hands with Ethan Matthews, then his brother Elijah. "What are you guys doing here?"

"I asked the same thing," Caleb said, stepping back over and grinning. He couldn't seem to keep the smile off his face. Sam seemed to be similarly affected, as he was standing so close, his shoulder was brushing Dean's. "Seems our cells going down triggered a be-on-the-alert. Oh, and JT, James, Max and Ryker are on the way too."

"What?" Dean asked. It seemed like a lot of things had happened since he'd gone down the rabbit hole, so to speak.

"JT must have had one of his feelings," Sam said with a smile.

At first Dean was worried he hadn't heard from JT before he remembered his cell battery was drained. He should have stopped somewhere on the way and gotten a new battery, but he knew they were on a time crunch with the spell and felt he'd rather get to Kansas; or Nebraska, as it ended up. He would need to make it a priority to get a new battery tomorrow. "When are they expected?"

"Maybe one or so in the morning," Caleb replied. "They were driving from Louisville. I've already booked them rooms."

Dean nodded.

"Why don't we get some place where we can talk," Joshua suggested.

"I reserved the banquet room at Napoli's," Caleb stated.

"Then let's get going," Ethan stated. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Elijah quipped, smacking his brother on the back.

Once they'd all trooped inside the Italian restaurant, the manager led them across the spacious floor and through a set of curtains in the back. As they all got seated around the table, Caleb took in the plain wood paneling and generic wall art. Kitschy, but this was likely the only banquet room for miles.

"Your servers will be with you in a moment," the manager said with a smile before leaving the room.

Soon a middle-aged woman came through the curtains followed by two girls who placed baskets of bread sticks on the table along with glasses of water. The first woman handed out the menus. "I'll be back for your orders," she said, nodding.

Once she and her fellow servers had gone, Sam asked, "What did you tell the restaurant about there being so many of us in this small town. As strangers, we're bound to get a lot of attention."

"Said we were old classmates who were on our way to a class reunion, and decided a road trip was in order," Caleb said.

"She say anything about the age differences?" Sam asked, feeling slightly insulted. As the youngest among them, he was being compared as a classmate of others twelve and sixteen years older than himself.

"We just look very young, so the subject didn't come up," Ethan declared, giving Sam a grin and receiving an eye roll in return.

"You can tell everyone you skipped a few grades in school if it makes you feel better," Caleb suggested, his eyes sparkling. Despite the tense situation, they couldn't help the feeling of joy that Dean and Joel had been returned to them.

Dean was already looking through his menu, his stomach growling. Other than a piece of fruit in Eden and a convenience store sandwich around noon, he hadn't eaten anything in more than a day, and he planned on making up for it. Soon, everyone was perusing the menus and making their dinner choices. Once the orders were placed and beer was added to the water glasses on the table, everyone got down to business.

"Why don't you fill us in on what happened in New York and why we're suddenly in Nebraska," Elijah said.

Dean looked at Caleb, who took up the narrative. "We tracked Piruz through Mississippi, Alabama and into North Carolina. After exchanging blows in Raleigh, Josh realized the spell had a central component. So we split up, with me, Sam, Dean and Adam going to hassle Piruz in New York in hopes of slowing down his placement of the boxes, and Joshua, Daniel, Raylan and Onida heading for Lebanon Kansas, which is the direct center of the forty-eight states. That's where Piruz will complete his spell."

Dean looked around. "Where is Raylan?"

"California," Joshua said. "Jace called and said they could use the help. So instead of flying here with us, he caught a one-way to Los Angeles."

"What is this _central component_ to the spell?" Elijah asked.

"Piruz is using an ancient Chaos Spell to control the power of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil," Joshua said. "The spell needs a central geographical point, which is Lebanon Kansas. The boxes placed around the country are his circle, made with the seeds of the Tree entrapped in cocobolo wood boxes and infused with his power."

"How did you figure that?" Ethan asked.

Joshua didn't look toward Dean. He merely said, "We were fortunate to get a quick look inside one of the boxes. As for figuring they were infused with Piruz's power, that took a lot of research."

Laughter rippled around the table and Joshua smiled. He was about to continue when the curtains parted and the servers entered with several plates of food and more baskets of bread. After the beverages were refilled and the servers had retreated, the conversation resumed.

"While Joshua and his team were making their way to Lebanon," Caleb continued, "we went and confronted Piruz at Freshkills Park in Staten Island."

"Freshkills," Ethan remarked. "Nice choice."

"His power is massive," Sam said, "but we were able to get in some good hits…"

"Until he opened his little wormhole," Caleb stated. No spoke for a time, as people concentrated on their hot food. "Anyway, after Dean was taken, Sam and I attacked in full force. Piruz knocked Sam away, and I got close enough to have a knife to his throat."

Dean's head jerked up as both Sam and Joshua's eyes widened.

"That's … astounding, considering his power," Joshua stated. "What happened?"

Caleb swallowed down his remorse and guilt before relaying, "I asked him where you were," he said, looking to Dean. "He said if he died, that knowledge died with him. I don't remember hesitating, but I probably did for just a second. He pulled power from somewhere and tossed me fifty feet through the air. When I got back to my feet, he was gone." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I could have ended everything if I'd just killed him right there."

Before Dean could say anything, Joshua spoke first. "We are the sum of our parts, and care for one another is our greatest strength, as well as a weakness that can be exploited. When it is exploited, we get back up and with the strength of our loyalty, care and love for one another," Caleb rolled his eyes at Joshua bringing in the _L_ word, "we kick their asses into the next universe."

There were a few chuckles and more affirmations as Caleb met his step-brother's eyes and nodded.

"I was just going to say you'll kill him later," Dean interjected, "but all that other stuff is good too."

Laughter erupted around the table, effectively shoving the discussion firmly out of chick-flick territory and onto safer ground.

"Anyway, Adam and I went to get Sam. We searched the area where you disappeared, but couldn't find any trace of you. Adam even searched magically, but there was no portal residue." Since Piruz was gone and probably on his way to place his boxes in New York, we decided the spell, being on a deadline, needed to be dealt with before we focused on getting you back," Caleb said, his eyes on Dean, asking for his understanding. "So after a stop at the emergency room, we headed for the airport."

"Emergency room?" Dean interrupted with a frown.

"Sam had a dislocated shoulder, cracked ribs and a broken arm," Caleb revealed.

Dean immediately looked in Sam's direction.

Onida jumped in and said, "I healed everything when Joshua and I got here this afternoon. He's fine."

"I'm fine," Sam said with a smile.

Only after surveying his brother thoroughly did Dean finally nod.

"And you?" Elijah asked, looking from Dean to Joel.

Dean merely looked down at his meal, and it was Joel who took up the narrative.

"When that light first took me … I thought I was dead." Eyes slightly unfocused as Joel relived his tumble through the portal. "Then, I was suddenly in sunlight, astounding beauty on every side. At first I looked around for my weapons, sure that the wizard was around somewhere and I would have to fight. But there was nothing; no spell bags, no gun, no knives. But across the field there were some trees, and I thought there had to be branches, something I could use to defend myself. I had injuries – cracked ribs, a burn on my shoulder, a sprained ankle – but still I made it across the meadow to the tree line."

Onida frowned at this point. "You didn't say anything about injuries…"

Joel smiled. "I'm fine. I was healed by the fruit."

The faces around the table showcased their varying degrees of surprise.

"I'll get to that," Joel said with a sly smile. "When I got to the tree line, there were no branches on the ground, no twigs, not even fallen leaves. But by that time I needed to stop, so I sat down beneath one of the trees and closed my eyes. I was sitting there for only a minute when something fell into my hands." He glanced around the table. Every single eye was on him; meals forgotten. "It was a piece of fruit. I quickly looked around, but no one was there; well, except a couple of wolves walking nearby. The fruit was a dark purple with a golden ring around the top. Deciding that regaining some strength was important, I took a small bite. Immediately the burn on my shoulder twinged. I looked down and the burn was gone."

Daniel leaned in. "It was healed?"

Joel nodded. "I ate more and my ribs stopped aching and I could breathe again, and after finishing the fruit, my ankle was healed."

"Amazing," Elijah murmured, riveted on the tale.

Joel nodded his agreement. "After that I did some searching, but there appeared to be no one in the place, and I walked quite a ways. Aside from the wolves I'd seen earlier, there were other animals; lions, cougars, horses, birds, a couple of creatures I didn't recognize. But none were ferocious. In fact, the first night there I tried to get some sleep, but I was so cold. Two lionesses came over and slept next to me, keeping me warm."

"That's astounding, but rather creepy too," Daniel said, grinning. "I think I would have jumped out of my skin."

"I nearly did!" Joel admitted.

"The Garden of Eden," Joshua murmured.

Joel nodded. "It didn't click until Dean got there and he made the connection, but I should have realized it right away. The beauty, the colors, the warmth and peacefulness were out of this world."

"But how did you get out?" Daniel asked.

Joel looked over at Dean.

Dean shifted slightly. He'd known this would happen, that people would want to know how they'd gotten out of Eden. He couldn't tell everyone about the silver, but he could talk about Pastor Jim. Clearing his throat slightly, he said, "We saw Pastor Jim and Castiel."

"The angel?" Onida asked.

Dean nodded.

Sam's throat closed slightly. It had been so long since they'd seen either the man or the angel.

"Pastor Jim?" Caleb choked softly.

Ethan and Elijah shared looks full of memories and yearning.

Dean nodded. "He asked why we keep finding ourselves in these odd situations." A few chuckles swept the table. "He said we couldn't stay there, but Castiel took me to where the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was planted. He said a limb had been magically severed. So we have confirmation, if we needed it, that the Tree is here."

"But how did you get back?" Onida asked. "Were you able to make a window, like the wizard?"

Dean didn't look over at Joel, he merely said, "Pastor Jim got us back."

Caleb stared at Dean a moment, knowing something Guardian-related must have happened. He, Sam and Joshua would get the full story later. Instead of pursuing it, he merely nodded and ate another mouthful of his meal.

Other curious looks were exchanged, but those most of those sitting at the table were seasoned hunters. They were used to some things being "Guardian" territory. Instead of dwelling on what Dean wasn't saying, Ethan asked, "Did you see any lions and lambs grazing together?"

"Dean said if he saw that, he would really freak out," Joel stated.

More laughter followed, providing the distraction needed for people to turn their attentions back to their cooling meals. Plates were cleaned, bread baskets emptied, and coffee was served all around.

"Piruz knows we're here," Sam stated, and he told everyone about the turbulent stretch of their flight. "Thank goodness Adam could dispel the turbulence, or we might have gone down. But he'll be on his way."

"I went through Lebanon this afternoon," Caleb said. "I know small rural towns are disappearing, but Lebanon is practically a ghost town. There's definitely a spell on the place."

"What kind of spell?" Joshua asked, frowning.

"I don't know, but as I was driving down US-281, I sensed…" Caleb broke off a moment, thinking of how best to explain what he'd experienced. "The feeling of being muffled, like someone pulled a knit cap over your head, and there was this annoying low-level buzzing. I put up my blocks and drove into Lebanon and stopped by a local market." He told them about meeting the shop owner and the mysterious woman watching from across the street. "After Abel told her I was just passing through, she walked away."

"So you sensed a muffled buzzing, nothing more?" Joshua asked.

Caleb nodded. "I didn't want to tip anyone off, so I didn't push."

"We should go back tonight," Sam stated.

"My thoughts exactly."

The curtain parted just then and two servers came inside and began clearing the plates.

"Would you like some dessert?" asked their waitress.

"Not tonight, thank you," Joshua said with a smile.

At that moment several things happened at once. There was the loud sound of crashing dishes, shouts raised from the main dining room, then two male servers came stumbling through the curtain into the banquet area, fists flying.

Ethan and Daniel were closest to the fray, and they rose quickly and separated the two young men. A third man had followed the two combatants into the banquet room and stepped forward, obviously intending to engage the two hunters in a fight. Joel moved in and stood, shoulders straight, hands loose at his side: a powerful, warning presence.

Onida quickly pulled at her energy reserves and sent out soothing, calming energy into the room as the manager raced inside along with two kitchen workers, their eyes wide and shocked.

"I'm so sorry," the manager said, grabbing at the young man nearest the curtain and shoving him outside the room. "We never have incidents like this at Napoli's."

"It's all right," Joshua said, sliding into his professional public relations persona like it was a favored jacket. "Youthful high spirits."

"Get out," the manager hissed at the two young men still being restrained by Daniel and Ethan. "Go home. Be back here at eight in the morning and we'll address your conduct tonight."

One of the young men jerked out of Daniel's grasp, his expression mutinous. "I didn't do anything," he declared. "He started it."

"And I'm ending it," the manager retorted. "Home, both of you. Cool down and we'll speak in the morning."

The two young men disappeared through the curtains, apparently headed home.

Turning to those in the banquet room, the manager offered his heartfelt apologies, saying their coffee would be on the house.

"That is very kind of you," Joshua replied with a smile. "And I hope you won't be too hard on the young men. Tensions are high lately."

"Aren't they just," the manager said, sighing. "There've been more fights and rudeness over the past couple of weeks than in the entire time I've been manager here."

"It will run its course," Daniel said with a smile. "Just be patient."

Behind the manager a middle-aged woman entered through the curtain carrying a pot of hot coffee to top off their cups.

"Thank you," Sam said, holding out his cup.

When the room was cleared of restaurant personnel, the Brotherhood group was left alone again.

"Things are really heating up all over," Ethan stated. "We passed nine car accidents on our way here this afternoon."

Sam nodded. "We've seen disruptions everywhere."

"We end it in Lebanon," Joel stated, to the nods and agreement of others.

Dean cut down to the heart of the matter. "We know the Tree is here, likely in the middle of the park. Can anyone confirm?" He looked between Sam, Caleb, Joshua and Adam, to the latter's surprise.

"Not yet," Caleb said. "We don't know enough about the protections around the town yet. We need to find out what kind of spells they're using."

"The muffling and the buzzing are good clues as to at least one of the spells used," Joshua said. Nodding to Adam, he continued, "We can work with that. But considering Piruz's age and magical experience, there will be many more protections in place."

"And since he's come up against the Brotherhood before," Sam added, "he'll have doubled his spells."

"Psychic protections too," Caleb agreed.

"To get more information we need to get closer," Dean said. "Can we do that without being detected? How about those masking potions like we used in Washington?"

"We'll wear the general masking pouches first," Joshua said, "then expand and build on them once we know what other spells are in play." To Caleb, he asked, "When did you start feeling the muffling to your senses?"

Caleb frowned. "I'm not sure. I was focused on getting into Lebanon without being noticed, so it may have been happening gradually before I really noticed."

"We could do an awareness spell," Adam suggested, looking to Joshua. "If we move slowly, we should be able to detect the edges."

Joshua nodded, "It should also help identify which spell is being used to cover the town."

"We'll need to go slowly," Sam said. "If we don't, we could trip something."

"We're an hour outside of Lebanon," Daniel said. "We can't walk the entire way. We'll be out all night. When do we stop and walk?"

"We'll drive until Joshua feels the edges of the spell, then we'll walk," Dean said, then added, "Only me, Josh, Caleb and Onida are going this trip. This isn't the engagement; this is finding out about the spells being used and how to dismantle them."

It wasn't unexpected that several voices would be raised in protest, the most vocal being Sam.

"You're saying we all stay behind?" Ethan stated, frowning.

"I'm not staying behind," Sam stated fiercely.

"You just got healed from a dislocated shoulder, cracked ribs and a broken arm," Dean said. "You need time to recover. This is a fact-finding mission; that's all. We'll work out the plan when we get back." His eyes went to Joshua, hoping their Advisor had come up with a spell to get rid of the Tree. "We're going to need spells bags and potion bags made. If you're good with it, I thought maybe Ryker and Adam could supervise the making of those. Make them as strong as possible." Once the protection bags were made, Joshua would Triad proof them when they returned.

"That would be a good start," Joshua agreed. He had other business to attend to.

"With the turbulence you guys felt on the flight here," Dean said to Caleb, Sam and Adam, "it's obvious Piruz is on his way. We'll need enough spell bags to arm everyone."

Sam didn't say anything as he watched Dean, but he was going tonight. He needed to watch Caleb's back while the Knight scoped out Lebanon. His gaze went to Caleb, who was watching him. Caleb nodded, and Sam knew he had the backing of the Knight.

Ethan gritted his teeth but nodded. Exchanging glances with his brother, he knew Elijah wasn't happy about staying behind either. But logically, they couldn't all go traipsing through the countryside around Lebanon. This mission called for stealth. "All right, we'll start on the potion and spell bags," he said. "But you've got three hours. If you're not back by then, we're coming to get you."

Joel, Daniel, Elijah and Adam all nodded their agreement.

"Agreed," Dean said. He looked over at Caleb. "When is the safest place to start walking in?"

Caleb thought for a moment, then said, "Safest distance would be about a twenty minute drive from town. It'll be a walk, but strategically speaking, any warning alarms would be well outside the town limits."

"Joshua, do we have enough ingredients to make the spell bags?" Sam asked.

"I already have the protection spell bags made," Joshua said, "though we should get some additional herbs for the other spell bags. Adam can take an inventory."

"We'll help with that," Elijah said.

Dean rose, and Caleb went out through the curtain to pay for their meals. While the others were milling about and shrugging into their coats, Sam went over to Dean.

"I'm coming tonight."

"You need to rest," Dean stated. "Onida can heal the body, but the mind still needs sleep to get over injuries."

"I get that. But Caleb will need backup to sense through the spells. If he could have done it on his own, he would have done it this afternoon."

Sighing, Dean realized Sam had a good point. While he wanted his brother to rest, they needed to know where the Tree was planted, and they needed to know what kind of enchantments and fortifications Piruz had put in place to protect the Tree. "Yeah, all right." Looking down at his watch, Dean realized that it, like his cell, had stopped.

"It's nine-thirty," Sam said with a smile. "We had to replace our cell and watch batteries too."

Sighing, Dean said, "You want to leave in an hour?"

Sam nodded. "Let's head back to the Holiday Inn. We can rest, get you and Joel settled then head out."

Dean nodded and started out of the banquet room.

"Question," Sam said. "Why bring Onida?"

"She's the energy specialist. Maybe she can tap into the Tree if Joshua, you or Caleb can't."

**.**

Dean sat grudgingly behind the wheel of Caleb's rented SUV, though it had been a tussle. He hadn't seen any reason not to take the Impala.

"You've got a muscle car…" Caleb began.

"Exactly," Dean interrupted. "Perfect to kick some wizard ass."

"And loud," Sam interjected, ignoring Dean's glare.

"While I'm sure your _car_," Caleb snorted, "could get in a few good licks, we're on reconnaissance tonight, remember? No loud engines."

Thus Dean was reluctantly driving the rented vehicle, with Caleb in the front seat beside him, Sam, Joshua and Onida in the back.

Caleb shifted to face those in the rear seat. "Keep your senses peeled. If any of us feels the slightest tickle, we stop immediately."

Sam nodded, and extended his senses. Joshua closed his eyes and focused on sensing magic. Onida merely opened herself up to the energies of the night and their fluctuations, hoping she would be able to detect anything that disrupted the flow.

They'd driven perhaps a half hour on the quiet night highway when Dean slowed and pulled the SUV to the very side of the road, two tires on the shoulder. As they crawled forward, he asked quietly, "Anyone feel anything yet?"

"Not yet," Caleb murmured.

"Nothing," Joshua stated, with Sam and Onida agreeing.

Keeping the car moving, the speedometer hovered around fifteen miles per hour as Dean kept the vehicle on the side of the road and out of the way of any cars that might come along.

When they'd gone another ten minutes, Joshua abruptly said, "Let's walk."

"You see something?" Dean asked, his eyes on the road ahead.

"Sense," Joshua said, his eyes closed.

Dean nodded and after a few more yards he pulled the SUV off the rural highway onto a narrow dirt road, maneuvering the car behind a thicket of trees. Shutting the engine down, he turned around. "We're about thirteen miles outside of town. If we move steadily, we can cover about four miles within the hour."

Everyone climbed out and started walking through the trees hedging the country highway. It wasn't easy moving through the dark of night across uneven ground covered in bushes and fallen branches. The one who had the easiest time was Onida. She seemed to move as one with the earth, using the energies of earth and air as her guide. They'd been walking a little over an hour when Joshua suddenly stopped.

"Joshua?" Sam murmured.

Caleb stopped, his gaze sweeping the darkness. "You sense anything?"

Tension hung in the air like summer humidity.

"I…" Joshua frowned. Lifting a finger, he moved it barely an inch in the air. "There's something ahead."

"We haven't tripped anything, have we?"

"No." Joshua stared ahead, his eyes moving from side to side. "No. But there's something just ahead. Not a barrier or a spell. More a … sensing."

Sam stared ahead, frowning. "What does that mean?"

Fumbling a bit to explain something he'd rarely encountered, Joshua finally said, "It's like someone hanging a cluster of chimes. The chimes are hung and attached to a group of branches. If someone brushes against a branch, a limb or some leaves, the chimes sound and the person who hung them is alerted to another's presence."

"But this is done magically…" Sam said, not understanding the difference between a _sensing_ and magic.

Joshua nodded.

"But you don't sense the magic?" Dean asked, wondering what kind of other traps had been set for them.

"Not in a sense," Joshua replied, wishing he could stop using the word _sense_.

"It's like elemental magic," Onida supplied, watching Joshua. "When you're bending the elements to your will, it wouldn't necessarily be read as traditional magic."

Joshua smiled and nodded. "Yes."

Caleb took a step forward, his eyes searching the darkness. "Can I take a look around with Sam watching my back? Or would that trip the alarm?"

"Let me see if I can get some clarity on what's ahead," Joshua said. Pulling his duffel off his shoulder, he rummaged around inside and pulled out a couple of small pouches. Opening one, he sniffed inside, then put it back into the bag. From the second pouch he poured a small amount of powder into his palm, murmured a short incantation and blew. The powder drifted ahead of them for several feet.

Dean lost track of the fine dust almost immediately, and simply leaned back against a nearby tree. Caleb and Sam were both focused ahead, and he wondered if they could sense the potion psychically.

"Ah," Caleb breathed as he watched.

Joshua nodded. "Yes, good."

"What?" Dean asked, straightening.

"You didn't see that?" Sam asked, his gaze focused on the direction the potion had floated.

"I wasn't paying attention," Dean remarked.

Caleb glanced over and smirked. Sam merely rolled his eyes.

"It looked like fireflies for a moment," Onida murmured. "Just a flicker of fireflies out for a night stroll."

"Is it safe?" Caleb asked again.

Joshua was still watching the forest and didn't answer the question outright. "The potion I made was incredibly sensitive, and it still bumped up against their net."

"Have they been alerted?" Sam asked.

"I don't believe so," Joshua answered. "The forest is full of life. They've made their alarm so sensitive, insects will trigger a response. I believe it's safe to assume they've gotten used to dismissing the light touches of insects, birds and smaller wildlife." Finally, he pulled his gaze back from the trees and looked over at Caleb. "I believe if you go carefully, you'll be quite safe in checking for other spells."

Caleb met Dean's eyes, and Dean nodded.

"Okay, let's get this done," Caleb said. Nodding to Sam, he closed his eyes. Pulling up his blocks, he made them a solid wall with small turrets on either side and to the front. When he felt Sam at his back, he reached out into the darkness. Moving past the place where Joshua's potion had indicated a net of sorts, he still didn't pick up any magic. It wasn't until he'd gotten almost a mile past the net that he spotted a glimmering line. Instead of moving forward, he watched the line and took note of its color and dimension to relay back to Joshua. Coming up close, he gave the line a psychic brush. Colors flashed through his brain.

_You okay?_ Sam's anxious query echoed in Caleb's mind.

_Yeah. Just got a light show_.

_Yeah, I caught a bit of it too. You want to back off?_

_No. We need to know what they're up to. Just be careful._

_You too._

Caleb sensed all along the line, and didn't see any human movement. In the distance he would see more blips and lights, but nothing else along this line. He didn't know what he'd encounter should he explore further, but they needed to know what Piruz had planned, so he carefully moved across the line.

The world blew up.

_Caleb!_

_I'm … fine._ Caleb had thrown up his solid wall of blocks at the first bombardment. Preparing himself for the onslaught of power, he slowly let down a small section, leaving a filter in place.

The enormous display of power and enchantments spiraling out all around Lebanon told him one major factor right off the bat; they had absolutely no hope of getting into the town by stealth. There were simply too many traps and protections. He couldn't tell what the spells were, though from experience, a few looked familiar. But what caught his attention was the magnificent light in the middle of a field to the west of the town: the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. There were so many lines and spirals of magic fanning out from around the Tree, the ground itself was nearly obliterated. He tried to memorize as many colors and curves of magic as he could, wishing he could simply pull Joshua inside his head so the crafter could see everything himself.

Moving in a bit closer, there was another odd phenomenon that caught his attention. Just beneath the earth's surface, luminescent lines spiraled out from the Tree. Could those possibly be the roots, something he could sense psychically? Though he wanted to move in even closer, he decided he'd pushed his luck enough and turned his attention away from the spells and focused on the people.

He sensed dozens and dozens of minds. But they weren't like the chaotic and lively minds of people he sensed around him every day. Instead, these minds felt dulled, though not stagnant by any means. Several minds felt lulled, as though the people were asleep. Hostages, maybe? Each mind not asleep was focused with a terrifying intensity on one thing: protecting the Tree. Pushing in a little closer, he could sense magical potential, but not from every person; and some had a greater talent for magic than others. Could this be where the lost coven had been taken? Had Piruz conscripted them to protect the Tree?

_Caleb…_

Pulling back slightly, Caleb suddenly became aware of an intrusion. Someone was trying to reach them, either magically or psychically. Of course, they weren't anywhere in the league of him and Sam, but they couldn't hang around.

_We need to leave. Someone's trying to sense our presence. They'll know exactly where we are…_

_If we don't_, Caleb finished the thought. Quickly he pulled up his blocks completely and retreated, Sam a welcome cover for their withdrawal.

When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the ground, Onida beside him. Blinking, he focused on Onida and gave her a tired smile. "I'm okay."

"You're sure?" asked a deeper voice.

Caleb glanced up to see Joshua leaning in close, a worried expression on his face. "Yeah," he smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, I'm fine." Looking around, he saw Sam sitting on the ground a few feet away, his face pale, Dean at his side. "Are you all right?"

Sam looked up and smiled. "Yeah. Someone felt us looking around and came snooping, but they didn't find us."

"Let's get back to the car," Dean said, helping Sam up. "You can tell us about what you saw on the way back to the hotel."

Caleb got to his feet, groaning slightly. After a long stretch, he started forward, saying, "One we know right now; there's no way in hell we're getting into Lebanon or near the Tree without a fight." Meeting Dean's eyes, he revealed, "They're armed to the teeth."

"Good thing I'm ready for a fight," Dean remarked.

"Aren't we all," Caleb agreed with a grin.

* * *

Dean woke to a darkened room and the soft sounds of Sam's sleeping breaths. He knew his brother was exhausted; they all were. They had stayed up talking far into the night. But his dream had been so real, it was taking him a long time to brush the cobwebs of confusion away and focus on where he was. Not fading like most dreams, the peace he'd felt in sleep still radiated through him, accompanied by a vivid recall.

He'd walked and walked through Eden, occasionally sampling the fruits of the trees, taken by their delicious and varied flavors. Feeling a joyous freedom from pain, worry, anxiety and sorrow, he'd occasionally broken into a run, just racing through the meadows and trees enjoying the wind flowing through his hair and across his face. There was a sense of freedom here he couldn't really remember ever feeling before; a sense of being watched over and cared for. That in itself was exhilarating. Eventually he dropped beneath a shady tree to rest, the sun warm on his face, a soft breeze cooling his cheeks. Occasionally some animal would wander by, some nosing at him in interest, a few wanting a friendly pat. Pastor Jim didn't show up, and that was a surprise. When he had dreams of this clarity, they usually involved his old mentor. But this time he was alone; yet not truly alone. There was a presence here that made him feel … protected, and that was glorious.

Shifting onto his side, he checked the hotel clock on the rickety table between his and Sam's beds. It was six in the morning. He'd only been asleep four hours, but he felt rested. With a soft sigh he pushed the covers aside and climbed from the bed. Quietly he pulled on his clothes and shoved his feet into his boots. Making sure he had his room key, he left Sam a note and slipped from the room.

The hotel was silent as he walked down the empty hallway. Since it was nearly six, he figured there would be coffee set up in the breakfast nook. Entering the lobby, he received a greeting from a sleepy night clerk as he snagged the morning paper. The kitchen staff were inside the eating area, setting up the muffins, dried cereal and fruit.

A small woman with dark hair confined beneath a net turned around and smiled. "Up early, Sir?"

"Yes," Dean murmured. "That coffee ready?"

The woman nodded, saying, "Help yourself. Hot food should be out in ten."

Nodding, Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to one of the small tables by the window. Sitting, he took a deep drink. There was nothing like a great cup of black coffee. Sighing, he stared out the window into the darkened parking lot and the narrow rural highway beyond.

The night before everyone had been waiting when they returned to the hotel. Together they'd gathered in the breakfast nook, talking quietly about what Caleb, Sam and Joshua had sensed around Lebanon. Caleb gave as many details from scanning Lebanon as he could remember while Joshua and Adam took notes, Joshua asking a question or two for clarification as they went.

"There were lines under the ground spiraling out from the Tree," Caleb relayed.

"Under the ground," Joshua clarified, "not in the topsoil?"

Caleb shook his head. "Nope, they were underground. I could see the light through the surface."

"Ley Lines," Onida and Adam said together.

"Earth energies," Onida said, then with a frown continued, "I didn't recognize anything."

"Maybe because they weren't natural ley lines," Caleb said. "They were spiraling out from the Tree."

"You think the Tree is creating its own energy vortex?" Onida asked.

Caleb shrugged. "I don't know enough about earth energies to answer that. I could see the lines. Whether that's because I'm psychic or because the lines were visible due to the amount of magic in the area, I don't know."

"What's an energy vortex?" Daniel asked, frowning.

"It's believed to be a special spot on the earth where energy is either entering into the earth, or projecting out of it," answered Adam. "Native Americans recognized energy vortexes as sacred sites. One of the most well known being in Sedona Arizona."

"Cathedral Rock in Arizona," Joel interjected excitedly. "Bell Rock, the other two. Each is supposed to radiate its own particular energy."

Adam nodded.

"Can we channel that energy to defeat Piruz?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Joshua said. "There are so many complexities to deal with." Looking to Onida, he said, "You're the expert in earth energies."

Onida gave a slight, one-armed shrug. "It's possible." She didn't like being put on the spot, and while she knew about ley lines and had used their power before, the Tree was an unknown power. She didn't want to commit to something she wasn't sure she could deliver.

Caleb read her expression and moved the discussion past the ley lines. "To sum it up, there were lights and shadows everywhere. There's no way we're getting to the Tree without a fight."

Daniel, who had been watching Joshua take notes and sketch a few diagrams, asked, "You can identify spells by their color or brightness?"

"Spells have as much variety of use as weapons on a hunt," Joshua said. "Some spells are for attacks, protection, revelation; others for repelling or healing. There is a variety, and like bullets for guns, one can sometimes identify the spell by its characteristics."

"A double barreled shotgun uses a different cartridge than a single barrel," Daniel offered. "Remington, Winchester, Creedmoor and so on all use different types of cartridges."

"With a variety of ranges and power," Joel added.

Joshua nodded. "And a hunter would know the velocity and range of each."

"So you can do the same thing with spells," Sam stated.

"To a certain degree, yes," Joshua said. "While bullets and cartridges are made to specific standards, spells can be adaptive to the creativity of their castor. But still, only so much variation can be used in a protection spell for it to remain a protection spell."

"And we're sure the missing coven is involved," Elijah asked. "Maybe these protections were all put in place by the witch."

"I felt magic there," Caleb said.

"Does anyone know where this missing coven was from?" Sam asked.

"Oberlin Kansas," Adam relayed. After a look at his watch, he rose, saying, "It's late, but I'll see if Odette has anymore information." Moving toward the entrance of the hotel, he pulled his phone from his pocket and disappeared out the front doors.

"The minds didn't feel vibrant, as most do," Caleb said. "Like I said earlier, they felt dulled and stifled, like someone is controlling them. And some felt asleep."

"Hostages, maybe," Ethan stated.

Caleb nodded.

"Safe speculation is that the townspeople and the missing coven are being used to protect the Tree," Dean stated.

"How are we going to get past them without hurting people?" Elijah asked. "If they're under a spell, they're not acting of their own volition."

"Even people under a spell can be dangerous," Ethan stated.

"They're going to be coming at us with extreme prejudice," Caleb stated. "We need to minimize the damage to others, but we need to protect ourselves first. We have a job to do."

"And saving those people is part of it," Elijah countered.

Caleb nodded. "Yes, but our main objective must be to stop the spell and get rid of the Tree. If we don't, the entire country will implode."

When Elijah and Sam looked like they planned on arguing, Dean halted what would end up being a debate of semantics by saying, "Let's not get caught up in arguing the finer points. This hunt is the same as every other hunt; we take out the threat while protecting and minimizing the damage to noncombatants. This isn't a new concept; we've done this our entire lives and we're damn good at it. We take out the aggressors in as safe a way as we can while keeping our mind on the goal: stopping the spell."

"We can make the spell bags and potions with as much care to disabling as possible," Joshua added. "But the coven has abilities as well. They'll be using potions with the express purpose of stopping us, not disabling. We need to come up with something they don't have."

"What about the earth?" Onida said.

Caleb nodded slowly. "Could you sense anything from the area? A mineral vortex like in Washington?"

"No," Onida admitted. "The land is pretty barren as far as minerals and crystals, I'm afraid. But there were elements I could use; bentonite and volcanic ash."

"What's bentonite?" Joel asked.

"Not very impressive," Onida said with a smile. "It's used as a foundry sand bond in iron and steel foundries; it's used to lubricate and cool drilling tools. It has medical and cosmetic applications. But it is absorbent and a purifier. Maybe it can be used to purify or absorb spells."

"Isn't there a fault line that runs through here?" Daniel asked.

Stifling a yawn, Sam pulled out his cell and logged on to the Internet. After a moment he said, "Yeah, the Humboldt Fault Line is just west of Lebanon."

Nodding, Onida said, "I felt some instability, but didn't have time to find the fault. That could come in handy." She hesitated to make the connection, but plunged ahead anyway, "I'll do a little research, see whether I can tie the ley lines into the fault line. That might be a big enough disruption to distract the coven members."

At that moment there was commotion from out on the lobby, and Adam walked back in followed by JT, James, Max and Ryker. The former two rushed immediately over to Dean.

"Dad!" JT exclaimed. "What happened? I couldn't get hold of you. Are you all right?"

"We were worried," James added, a note of accusation in his voice. "Why didn't you call back?"

The pair looked tired and pale, and Dean pulled his sons in close. "I'm sorry," he said, giving them each a squeeze and a few rubs on the back before letting them go. "My cell battery died and I wasn't able to get a new one yet."

JT looked stern. "You know the rules. You're never out of contact. You should have gotten a new battery as soon as possible."

"They didn't have a store where I was," Dean remarked, thinking back to the Garden of Eden and the meadows and trees. No chance of a store there, nor since he and Joel had gotten back, either. They'd been too focused on getting to Lebanon.

Varied conversations buzzed around them as JT stared. Humor was evident in his father's voice, and his irritation rose. He'd spent the last twenty-four hours thinking something had happened to his dad, and he wasn't in the mood to be amused. Rule number one; never be out of communication. Dean had been drilled that into their heads growing up. It wasn't like their dad to neglect his own rules, and he sensed there was more this story. Eyes narrowed, he murmured, "I want the whole story."

"I'll explain everything," Dean promised, feeling an upwelling of guilt as he noted the pinched look around his son's eyes, the worry etched on his young face. They were both tired, and JT had misunderstood his wry humor at the thought of finding a battery in Eden. He should have stopped along the way here to get a battery instead of rushing to meet up with Caleb and Sam. "There was a good reason I couldn't get a battery, but I'll make sure that's rectified in the morning."

JT merely nodded while James said, "Yeah, okay."

In the meantime Max was standing beside his father, talking quietly just as Ryker stood near Adam. Giving his son a pat on the back, Adam turned and walked over to Dean.

"The missing coven is small, but strong; about eighteen members. They're strength lies in protection magics. Each coven member has a special ability they use to enhance their spells."

Dean frowned, "Like what?"

"Heart magic, earth magic, strength magic, soul magic," Adam explained. "There are several different disciplines. They've recruited people who excel in protection gifts, and they've used those skills to support themselves through selling protection amulets, pouches, dream catchers, other items of the like."

Caleb walked over to listen.

Adam nodded to the Knight and continued. "Occasionally they take on commissions; someone who needs an item protected. Before they accept, the client undergoes a stringent background check. The coven does not deal with criminals."

"Does Joshua know all this?" Caleb asked.

"I'll tell him before we head to bed," Adam stated, glancing over his shoulder to where Joshua and Max were talking.

Dean nodded. "So we've got eighteen coven members. How many of the citizens are likely to be under Piruz's spell," he asked, looking at Caleb. "Could you sense how many minds were under his control?"

"No, not exactly, but I'd guess maybe thirty minds under a spell of some sort."

Adam nodded. "That sounds about right. Even for a strong wizard, harnessing minds is not an easy task. People are unpredictable and on the whole, difficult to control. Controlling thirty minds would take a powerful amount of magic."

Caleb suddenly yawned, and Dean smiled.

"Let's finish this in the morning. It's almost two and we've got a lot to do tomorrow."

Caleb nodded. Stepping away slightly, he called, "We're packing it in tonight. Everyone's got their key cards. Tomorrow is going to get complicated, so get some rest while you can."

Sam walked over followed by Joshua, who started a quiet conversation with Adam. Dean was speaking again to JT and James.

"Piruz will be here by tomorrow," Sam murmured, his eyes on Caleb.

Caleb nodded. "When he gets here, we won't be his first concern. He'll check on the Tree, make sure his protections are in place."

"Then he'll come for us."

"Maybe, but I think he'll take the high ground and let us to come to him. He knows we will."

"But he found us in the air. He'll check on us when he gets here."

"Agreed," Caleb said, stifling another yawn. "But Joshua put protections around the hotel this afternoon. Piruz is strong, but I'm counting on Josh being the better witch."

"Crafter," Sam corrected humorously.

"Crafter," Caleb corrected. His eyes went to Dean. "And Dean's back. We can take him."

Sam felt his throat close slightly as emotion rose inside. They'd been going full out since Dean was returned to them, and he hadn't had time to deal with all his emotions. He wanted some time to simply watch his brother, so thankful he wasn't lost to them.

Caleb looked at Sam and felt a wave of familiar camaraderie sweep through him. Once before they had stood shoulder to shoulder facing the worst thing they could ever have imagined: the death of Dean. Battered and frayed, the god of sorrow had collected its due without mercy or leniency. But Dean's return to them had healed the wounds, leaving scars that had faded with the years. Yesterday those scars had been torn open anew, and they would heal together.

Sam met Caleb's eyes and smiled, nodding. This time, there was no Ruby playing her mind games. Dean was back and they were together.

.

Dean took another swallow of his coffee and shifted, watching the dawn crest the horizon through the hotel windows. How would the day end? If there were as many traps and spells as Caleb said, they would need Triad magic to make it through. He was thankful for Ethan, Elijah, JT and his Triad, for everyone who was here. With so many traps and spells twining the entire location around Lebanon, and with a master witch with thousands of years of experience as their foe, they would need as many hands on deck as possible. Was Piruz back already? If he were, he would be at the Tree, that Dean knew. But he would also need rest after having driven for so many hours. They had time to work out their plan.

"Dad?"

Dean looked around and smiled as JT came over, a cup of coffee in his hands, and sat across the table. "What are you doing up? You just got in bed."

JT shrugged. "Couldn't sleep," he said, followed by a yawn.

"You should go up and try harder," Dean said humorously. "You look tired."

"I slept quite a bit on the road. I'm fine."

Dean had never considered how irritating _I'm fine_ had sounded to Sam through the years until he had children of us own and they said the same thing. Genetics were a bitch. "Want to tell me about it?"

"I'll trade stories," JT stated, his lips quirking slightly.

"Deal."

JT told of waking up with the feeling that something was wrong, how he'd tried to get back to sleep, but the feeling remained. "I just knew I had to get home. Max was already planning a trip to see Nicholas, so I texted him and James to meet me in Louisville."

"And had did going home end up with you coming here?" Dean asked.

JT shrugged. "Another feeling when I got to Louisville. I texted you again, but you didn't answer. So I texted Uncle Caleb and Uncle Sam asking where they were. Uncle Caleb said they were here, so we came." Watching his father take another gulp of coffee, he said, "Now you."

"We were fighting Piruz at Freshkills Park."

"In Staten Island?"

Dean nodded, and told JT everything, from the fight, to his being swallowed by Piruz's portal and waking up in Eden. He told his son about seeing Pastor Jim and Castiel again, and how Jim told him to use the waters of the rivers surrounding Eden to open a bridge to Sam and Caleb. "And the bridge took us right to them, except they were in the air and we landed on the runway," he added ruefully.

JT chuckled at the image of his dad and Joel standing in the middle of the runway while Caleb and Sam were on the jetliner flying into the distance. "Awkward."

"You have no idea," Dean smiled. "You should have heard one of the airport baggage carriers when he had to drive out and get us."

"When were you taken through the portal?"

Dean eyed his son. "About midnight."

The exact moment JT had woken.

"Did you sense I was dead?" Dean asked solemnly.

"No," JT replied, thinking back. "I just woke up instantly and felt something was wrong. When I tried to text you and you didn't answer, I knew it. You always text back no matter what time it is."

Dean felt awe and enormous pride well inside for his son. JT was a marvel of intuition, instinct and good sense topped off with his mother's dry sense of humor and Sam's Boy Scout ways. He couldn't get over how lucky he was to have three such amazing kids.

JT yawned again and Dean said, "Go on up to bed, get at least four more hours."

"What about you?" JT asked.

"For some reason I'm totally rested," Dean said with a shrug. "But I'll go up after some breakfast."

That answer seemed to satisfy JT and he nodded, rising. "I'm glad you're not stuck in Eden, Dad."

"Me too."

Dean watched JT walk from the breakfast nook, then rose and ladled some scrambled eggs, sausage and toast onto a plate. Resuming his seat, he thought back to his dream and wondered if somehow dreaming of Eden had given him a renewed sense of strength. Taking a bite, he hummed softly at the warm eggs and spicy sausage. Maybe dream fruit and watchful peace from Eden could extend beyond the dreamscape, because he felt wonderful. Deciding not to question whether such a thing was possible, he merely ate his breakfast as he planned for battle.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Shazza19: Your speculations were not wrong!_


	23. Chapter 23

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 23

.

Piruz approached Lebanon just before dawn, tired, angry and downright annoyed. He'd spent the trip from New York attempting to discern how Merlin's remaining two warriors had discovered the central location of the Tree. And being cold, as he had yet to replace the windows the witch had blown out. He was staying a short distance from Lebanon in a bed and breakfast called Howell House. This house was much less opulent than the ones in the larger cities. But for some reason, he found this home to be more like the ones he remembered from his youth; open, welcoming, simple and warm. Though he'd arrived well before check-in time, the woman who ran the establishment checked him into an empty room and gave him an old-fashioned key, which pleased him. He liked the feel of putting a key into a lock and turning. Giving her a nod, he went up to his room and immediately retrieved his map, unrolling it over the bedcover. Now, to find whether Merlin's remaining Warriors had made it to Lebanon.

Pulling out a leather pouch, he opened it and took a pinch of the sparkling, aromatic powder from within. Murmuring softly, he wafted the powder over the parchment and watched. Nothing happened. Frowning, he took a larger pinch and repeated the incantation. Blowing the powder lightly over the map, he watched as once more, nothing happened. "la shay," _(Nothing)_ he murmured, frowning. Either the warriors had yet to arrive in Lebanon - a notion he discarded because they had traveled in the air machine - or perhaps the machine had succumbed to his magic and dropped from the sky. While that outcome would simplify his life, it was more likely that they were where, and the witch from the hotel was with them and had cast spells of obscuring. Considering his options, he pulled another bag from his leather duffle and took a pinch. Murmuring another incantation, this one longer and more complicated, he blew the powder onto the map. Staring intently, he finally cursed, "allaeanat!" Still nothing. The witch was good, very good.

Picking up the parchment, he tipped the spell remnants into the trash container then returned the map to the bed. Pulling a third pouch from his duffle, he repeated the actions he'd done thrice already, and blew the powder over the map. It lit up like the stars on a clear night. Smiling, he nodded. Yes, his protections were still in place. That meant if Merlin's Warriors were here, they had not been able to penetrate his fortifications. Sighing, he brushed away the remainder of the locator potion and blew a fifth over the parchment surface, checking the boxes surrounding the country. They were also intact. Nodding, he again deposited the spell sand into the trash can and carefully rolled up the parchment.

Pulling a small disc from his duffle, he walked to the window and opened the curtains. Gently he placed the dial on the window ledge. The moon caught the center rod and cast a shadow across the dial. He had one more day before the spell needed to be concluded. Carefully he picked up the ancient shadow clock, removed the rod and folded it back into its leather case. He knew there were many more modern ways to track the movements of the sun and the moon. But somehow, through countless centuries, he had retained this most ancient of clocks. It connected him to the family he'd lost, reminding him that revenge must always to be at the forefront of his every action.

Weariness tugged at his muscles as he returned the shadow clock to its leather case. He hadn't had adequate sleep in almost twenty-four hours, and his body was complaining. Stripping out of his modern clothes, Piruz washed in the bathroom basin, sluicing the grime from his skin. Stepping beneath falling water was something he had done often, enjoying the heat and the water pressure that helped ebb the tension from his body. But now was the time for a return to the past, when water was precious and used carefully and methodically. Now that his revenge was about to be fulfilled, he wanted to remember the past.

Stepping from the bathroom, he pulled an ancient tunic over his body. Faded with age and lovingly repaired, he had worn this garment only a handful of times through the centuries, and he had worked very hard to preserve this last tunic made from the cloth his family was known for in Eridu, Petra and throughout Mesopotamia. Wiping a hand gently against the fabric, he seemed to go back in time to when his brothers and sisters wove this cloth. His job had been to apply the dyes, a procedure to which he utilized his magics to increase the viability of the color. The dye for this garment had been taken from the mineral lazurite, and the blue was almost as vibrant and shiny as it had been when he'd dyed it.

Forcibly he pulled his mind away from the past and into the present. This was the time when he would rule and his revenge against the God-With-No-Name would be complete. The good would survive and the wicked would perish. Life would be in balance.

Climbing beneath the soft blankets, he lay on his back and sighed. Yes, tomorrow he would end the regime of the God-With-No-Name and the people would thank him. He would be beneficent and they would love him, they would worship him. Yes, after tomorrow, _he _would be God.

* * *

Joshua lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling of his hotel room. The task Dean had set for him had seemed impossible. While Pastor Jim's confidence had been welcome, it was Caleb's advice that helped steer him in the right direction: _Don't think about this being the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, don't think about breaching Eden. Just think about taking something that shouldn't be here and sending it home_. That was the tack he had taken, and it had been his guide.

Carefully he went over the incantation he had written, and the minerals and spices he would need. The scope of the spell frightened him immensely. Sighing, he swung his feet from the bed and sat up. Running his fingers through his hair, he swallowed down the emotions that were threatening to burst from his body. He was afraid. He could admit that here in the dark and quiet of his room. He was afraid. Moving the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was not a small task, and the power needed to make it happen would be massive. The spell he'd designed was risky and would take an enormous amount of energy for him to perform. Would it take too much from him? He didn't want to die. There was too much to live for.

Swallowing hard, he rose and walked over to the window. His heart was pounding as he went through the spell in his head. With a sigh, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the chilly window glass, closing his eyes. He could hear the birds singing in a new day from outside, car doors opening and closing, engines starting, people going on with their lives not knowing that a band of few men were readying themselves to take on a wizard intent of spreading chaos across the country. If he wasn't familiar with the supernatural, the Machiavellian story would have made him laugh. A soft ring sounded behind him and he turned slowly. It could only be Carolyn. The clock on the bedside table said seven-forty. Closing his eyes, he swallowed down his emotions and walked to the bedside table.

"Carolyn," he said softly.

There was a moment's hesitation before Carolyn asked, "What's wrong?"

Joshua shook his head with a wry smile. After being married for more than thirty years, Carolyn knew him better, almost, than he knew himself. "I'm just tired," he said, knowing the fib wouldn't fool his wife. Still, he carried on; "We didn't get in bed till after two in the morning."

Again there was a short silence. "All right," Carolyn said, accepting that Joshua wasn't going to explain what was going on. "But you're going to tell me eventually."

"You're right," Joshua said, his smile more easy and genuine. Carolyn's influence was cathartic. "I will. But for the moment, why don't you tell me why you're up so early?"

"You know."

Joshua's smile widened even as his throat closed a little. Nicholas. He loved that little boy as fiercely as he loved Max and Josie. "Put him on." A moment later, Joshua could hear breathing on the phone. "Nicholas," he murmured.

"Back?"

"Very soon, I promise."

A soft sigh of disappointment drifted over the line.

"I'm sorry, Nicholas. This trip was much longer than I thought it would be," Joshua said softly. After a moment's hesitation, he did something he'd sworn he would never do. He asked, "Do you remember before?" Silence greeted his question, and he felt like a heel for asking his son to even consider remembering that horrific time.

"Dark," came the whispered reply. "Cold … scared."

Joshua closed his eyes as sorrow stormed through his body. "Yes," he whispered. "Well, there are a lot of people here in the dark and I'm trying to help them. Can you be patient while I finish?" Joshua thought his heart would climb out his chest before he heard one, small word.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Nicholas. You know I love you, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for being brave. I want a big, long hug when I get home."

"Home."

"Yes, home." He could hear Carolyn talking in the back ground.

"Love Daddy," Nicholas said. A moment later Carolyn was on the phone.

"You hurry back, all right?"

"I will. I love you, Carolyn Sawyer," Joshua said as he closed the phone.

Carefully he placed the cell back on the bedside table and stared at the lighted face until it went dark. He shouldn't have said that last bit like he had. Carolyn would worry. But if he didn't make it through the spell, he needed her to know that she was the best thing that had happened in his life. He needed her to know she was his rock, his balance and his soul.

Wrenching his eyes away from the phone, he straightened his shoulders and stood. All right, no more thoughts about possible consequences of the spell. He was the Advisor to the longest running and best Triad in Brotherhood history. He intended to retire with the rest of them. Moving to the small table in the corner of the room, he picked up the pages of the spell he'd written. Eyes going to the diagram, he thought through every step again again. It would be tight; there were a lot of things that needed to happen at once for such a large spell. Suddenly, he looked up as a face popped into his head: Ryker. Ryker was here now. In his quest to figure out the magical mechanics of moving an object as vast of the Tree, to align the components, and design and write the spell, he hadn't thought beyond its completion. Maybe, just maybe he didn't _need_ to work the spell alone. With Ryker here, maybe there was a way they could work in tandem. It would take some effort and quick work, but maybe he could restructure the spell. Sighing, he thought those were a lot of maybes. Pulling out the rickety desk chair, he adjusted the height for perhaps the fifteenth time and got to work.

* * *

Ethan and Elijah sat in the breakfast nook, eating hot pancakes and sausage.

"I want to do more," Ethan stated.

"We're going in tonight." Elijah took a sip of his coffee before saying, "In the meantime we'll be making spell bags. We're going to need a lot."

Ethan nodded as he finished chewing his toast. Swallowing, he said, "Making the spell bags is important. But we'd need less if we can diminish the spells already laid."

Elijah's fork halted midway to his mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not completely sure, but I was thinking about guerilla warfare. Piruz is an ancient wizard. Warfare was different in his time, more frontal than covert. Maybe we can use that to our advantage."

"He hasn't been hiding under a rock for the last several centuries. You don't think he's learned a thing or two?"

"How do you know he's been involved with society?"

"How do you know he hasn't," Elijah countered.

"According to Sam, he speaks Latin fluently. Other than being used in academia…"

Elijah gave a snort which he turned quickly into a cough when Ethan glared.

"Other than being used in academia and the sciences," Ethan stated defiantly, "Latin hasn't been a spoken language for centuries. And English has been the Global language of business for at least the last one hundred years."

Elijah grinned. "Since when have you been the ancient studies professor?"

"You've been yammering in my ear about history since we were kids. Something was bound to stick."

Elijah laughed. "True." Setting all teasing aside, he said, "So, guerrilla warfare. It's a good battle strategy, but I have a feeling you're talking about something else."

"Caleb said there are so many spells, we step even _close_ to Lebanon and they'll know it," Ethan said. "How about you and I go in and lay down magical dampeners."

"Magical what?"

"Dampeners."

"What are those?"

"I don't know yet," Ethan admitted. "I have to talk to Joshua about it. But if we could go in like some goofy tourists and drop some spell pouches that might interfere with the spells the wizard laid, it might make getting into Lebanon a little bit easier. We won't be using potions to detect spells and tip-toeing over them during the big fight."

"You don't think they'll sense dampening spell bags?" Elijah asked skeptically.

"Not if their on a time-delay," Ethan said. "If they're masked until a certain time, they shouldn't be detected. Then they go off and dampen at least some of the spells in and around the town."

Elijah nodded slowly. "Caleb and Sam said they were detected when Caleb was scoping out the town last night. If psychics can be detected, our minds would be open books."

Ethan looked affronted. "Not so. We have strong blocks; we were taught by the best. John Winchester made sure we could protect ourselves, mentally." Suddenly he smiled. "Remember when Missouri tried to get you to confess you'd eaten a piece of her peach pie?"

Elijah laughed, nodding. "Instead, I got her to tell us that she always knew Caleb never ate her pie, that it was Sam. She just liked taking Caleb down a peg or two. Said with his powerful psychic abilities, some humility was needed."

Ethan laughed. "Maybe you could use some of that truth telling in town, find out more about the protections the coven is using."

Elijah nodded before sobering. "We'd have to keep our blocks in place the entire time we were in and around Lebanon."

"And we'd have to put on a show," Ethan agreed. "Our actions would have to be real."

Elijah considered his brother. "Dean may not go for it. We'd be taking a chance on tipping off the wizard."

"According to Caleb and Sam, he already knows we're here," Ethan pointed out. "Remember the turbulence that almost brought down their plane?"

"Knowing we're somewhere in the area is different than walking into town."

Ethan sighed. "I know. But if Caleb could draw out a map of what he saw, and we could pick out strategic areas to dampen the protections, we might be able to carve a more direct path to the Tree. I think it's worth the risk."

Ethan had a good point. If the protections were as massive as Caleb described, taking some of them out could only help their position when they took on the coven and the wizard. But this ancient magician was talented, very clever, and according to Joshua, had been preparing for this event for centuries. He would not be easy to fool. "If we went," Elijah said, "we would have to be protected."

"Masking spell bags," Ethan said.

"They'd have to be incredibly subtle. The coven members are specialists in making protection spells. They'd sense them."

"Maybe Onida could help," Ethan said. "She's able to manipulate earth magics."

"Adam said the coven has earth magic specialists," reminded Elijah.

"But Onida isn't a witch," Ethan stated. "So there's a difference between what she does and what an earth magic witch does … right?"

"I haven't the faintest." Elijah sighed. "Before we get any further down this path, let's check in with Dean and Caleb, see what they think before we refine a plan."

Ethan nodded.

"Be prepared for them to say no," Elijah warned. "We'd be taking a big risk."

"I know. But I think the risk is worth it."

"Let's find out."

* * *

Sam shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable place for his legs. They usually had their meetings around a table instead of lounging on two queen beds in a standard room. Glaring in Caleb's direction, as though this were all his fault, he grumbled, "You couldn't get the suite? You?"

"I can't help it if someone else already had a reservation, Sam," Caleb retorted. "And in case you hadn't noticed; we're in the middle of nowhere."

Sam scowled at the older man while Dean leaned back against the headboard of Caleb's bed, smirking. They'd gathered in Caleb and Onida's room because there was literally no other place. Downstairs in the hotel lobby wasn't viable during the day due to customer traffic and cleaning staff. The restaurant they'd been at the night before didn't open until three. This small Holiday Inn Express didn't have a conference room, and the one suite in the building had been reserved. So twelve people were crammed into a standard sized room spread out between the beds, the two chairs and a small settee. Sam wasn't happy with sitting on the bed.

"We're only touching base here," Dean said. "Then we'll split up into groups to prepare. We're going in tonight."

"We have an entry plan?" JT asked.

"A rough plan," Caleb answered. "We'll refine it today and be ready for tonight. We'll expect the defenses surrounding Lebanon to extend outside the city limits by at least fifteen miles, maybe twenty."

"Anything more exact on how close can get before we trip the spells?" Ethan asked.

"On our scouting mission, we were at seventeen miles when Joshua told us to slow down and stop. It was another three miles before we hit the line," Caleb relayed. "But US 281, 191, and 135 are commerce routes. There are major trucking routes all throughout the central states, so the spells will be monitored. But we should get very close before they figure out we're coming."

"They'll have a way to rule out trucks," Ryker said.

"But can they actually tell which cars are just passing through and which ones might pose a threat to them?" Joel asked.

"Caleb could tell there were people with magical abilities," Elijah said. "They'll have ways of detecting magic spells and psychics."

"You think they have psychics like Caleb? Like Sam?" Daniel asked.

"It's possible," Caleb said slowly. Sam was the one who felt the intrusion first. "Sam?"

Sam thought back to when he was watching Caleb's back as he searched the town for traps and spells. "I wouldn't rule out their having a psychic," he said ponderingly. "But when they came snooping, I more had a sense of a spell being cast rather than a psychic searching for intruders."

James leaned forward, keen interest etched on his face. "How could you tell that?"

"You can tell a psychic," Sam said. "A spell is colder."

Joshua looked over and frowned. "Colder?"

"Less personal?" Sam suggested.

"James, JT, Max and Ryker will go in from the north," Caleb went on.

Joshua interrupted. "I need Ryker with me."

Caleb's brows rose.

"I'll go with them," Adam offered.

"I may need Adam as well," Joshua stated.

"All right," Caleb said, nodding. "We'll discuss teams this afternoon. For the moment, we'll be advancing on Lebanon from three directions: east, south and north. They'll be expecting us, but breaching the town from three directions will divide their forces and hopefully add some confusion. This afternoon will be a strategy meeting. For right now, we need to get our masking potions and spells bags made."

"I brought a reserve of ingredients," Ryker stated.

"Thank you," Joshua said, hoping their combined supplies would be enough.

"Adam can make sleeping potions for the townspeople," Joshua said. "It's a safe bet they'll have a counter for that tactic, or protections against a potion that would inhibit their abilities. But we'll be prepared anyway."

Dean shoved himself off the bed. "Joshua, can you get everyone working on making the spell and masking pouches?"

"Yes. We'll meet in my room," Joshua said, rising from his chair and moving toward the door.

While most of those in the room were filing out, Ethan and Elijah approached Dean, Caleb and Sam about Ethan's idea to place spell dampeners in Lebanon.

"I figure we go in, stop and get food, pick up some gas and move on," Ethan said. "We don't stay long enough to create suspicion; just long enough to pick up some supplies, fuel up the car and get outta dodge."

"We'll need to drive at least an hour south of Lebanon then circle east and come back up to avoid those detector spells Joshua sensed," Elijah said, "so we'll be gone several hours."

Dean stared at the two men, men he'd known for decades, and knew they hadn't made this suggestion flippantly. Ethan had probably been thinking about it all night. "Is there such a thing as a spell dampener?"

Ethan shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I don't know. But when you think about magic and its power, I can't imagine there wouldn't be something that would put a lid on a spell."

"During the ages when magic abounded, spells would be a part of warfare," Elijah said. "In all offensive battles, defensive measures would have been developed."

"We'll have to check with Joshua," Sam said carefully.

"I guess my question is whether this coven has a psychic," Ethan said. Jerking his chin towards Elijah, he continued, "We've got strong blocks, John made sure of that. If the sensing spell is their only means of detecting intruders, we have a good chance of putting some time-delayed dampeners around the town."

"Time-delayed," Caleb murmured.

"I'll text Joshua," Sam said, pulling out his phone.

"I know what you're thinking," Ethan said, "but this isn't rash. They won't catch us. Even if they did, they'd just use us as prisoners of war."

"Oh, there's a thought," Caleb snorted.

"We won't be going in unarmed," Elijah argued. "Though we could be carrying time-delayed spell pouches, we would be wearing Joshua's protection pouches…"

"We're really getting into some complicated magic here," Dean protested. "Josh has a lot on his plate. We're going in tonight to end this spell and get rid of the Tree, and there are a lot of spell pouches to make. My question is whether we should be dividing our time to create dampening and time-delayed spells."

"I think the risk is worth the effort," Ethan stated.

There was a knock at the door and Sam opened it to let Joshua in.

Joshua's brows rose in question as he surveyed the men in the room.

Sam walked over to one of the chairs and dropped down, saying, "Ethan wants to know if you can make spell dampening spells and time-delayed spells."

Joshua merely eyed the others for a moment, then said, "Yes."

Dean's eyes widened. "You can?"

"Of course," Joshua said. "Defensive spells are a major part of every crafter's training."

"How come we didn't know this?" Caleb demanded.

"You do," Joshua stated, rolling his eyes. "What do you think we used in Washington? We used a mixture of offensive and defensive spells."

Dean frowned. "We did?"

Caleb smacked his forehead. "We used a time-delay on the magical bomb at the Yakama Tribal Hall and Records Building."

"A magical bomb?" Ethan echoed, his brows raised.

Joshua nodded. "Adam told me all about it." He looked to Sam. "You both made a very effective time-delay in there."

Ethan's head was going back and forth between Caleb and Joshua. "I repeat, a magical bomb…"

Caleb grinned. "Cockroaches all over a building, top to bottom. I'll tell you all about it later."

"Hey, I'm the one who made it," Sam groused.

"Back on track," Dean interjected, eyeing the pair of them. Turning to Joshua, he explained what Ethan and Elijah had proposed. "What do you think?"

"A good tactic," Joshua agreed, though he frowned.

"But…" Ethan probed.

"Time," Dean said, watching Joshua.

"It would be a challenge, to ready enough spell bags for offensive use, readying the sleeping spells then masking spell bags." Joshua frowned. "In order to make time-delayed dampening spells, we'd need to push back everything else and start with those." Looking up, he asked, "How many would you need?"

"What would be the detonation area?"

"Fifty to seventy yards, maybe."

Elijah and Ethan exchanged glances. "A fair amount of distance," Elijah said.

Ethan nodded. "We wouldn't be able to place too many, or we'll look suspicious."

"Five?" Elijah suggested.

"Maybe six, if we have the opportunity to place them all," Ethan said. "I'd rather be overly prepared than under. How long would that take?"

Joshua glanced down at his watch. It was just after ten in the morning. "I could have it ready by eleven-thirty."

"I have a problem with a dampening spell," Dean stated. "If you make a spell dampener so we can get into Lebanon, won't that dampen the spells we use too?"

"Not if we make the dampening spell specific, like for protection spells," Joshua said. "Those are the spells that Lebanon is riddle with. When we engage the townspeople and the coven tonight, they'll have other spells, spells aimed to harm. We need to treat those as we would guns and rifles and stay out of the way."

"So what we're looking at is Ethan and Elijah placing dampening spells that will enable us to get into Lebanon with less hassle," Dean clarified.

"Yes."

Knowing the question needed to be raised, Caleb asked, "Will making these new dampening spell pouches put a knife in getting ready for tonight?"

"We should be able to complete everything, especially since Max, Ryker and Adam are here. There are more hands to assemble the pouches, so," Joshua nodded. "Yes, we should be able to do everything." Turning, he hurried from the room to start making the potions.

"Do you know where you're going to place the dampeners?" Sam asked.

"Yes." Ethan pulled a small sketch from his pocket and smoothing it out on the bedspread. "The geographical center of the country is straight down US 281 and west on Highway 191. I don't know that we can get close to it, but we might be able to place a dampener at the intersection of the two."

"If we stop and pretend to look at the turn, then decide to go on into the town first, that might work," Elijah said.

"There's a Midway Co-op Service station right before we get into town."

"I went right past that one," Caleb said. "There's a closed station further in off Main Street."

"We'll stop and top off the gas tank there," Ethan said. "We'll ask if there's a place to get supplies." He pointed to the market Caleb had stopped at. "We'll place one at the service station and one at the market."

"From the map, it looks as though Ladow's is at city center," Elijah interjected.

"If the café is on Kansas Avenue, we'll go there next and place one."

"We'll ask about the Center of the forty-eight states place, then let ourselves get talked out of going back to check it out. We'll head out of Lebanon and place one at the Lebanon Co-Op Elevator factory."

"That's five," Caleb said. "Where will you place the sixth?"

"I don't know," Ethan admitted. "As we get to the intersection of US 281 and Hwy 191, if we can turn and get to the park, I wanted an extra one just in case."

Dean didn't like the idea of Ethan and Elijah going off on their own to face Piruz and his minions. But it was their job, just like it was his, Caleb's and Sam's. "Trust no one," he said. "Caleb had a moment with the grocer. Don't trust him if he asks anything."

"I read him, and he seemed like himself," Caleb added. "But I wouldn't trust that. Some of those people need to maintain the running of the town so visitors and truckers don't get suspicious."

Ethan and Elijah rose.

"We'll head out the south end of town and pick back up US 281," Ethan said, folding the map and putting it back inside his jean's pocket. "We'll go down to Hays then take Interstate 70 east to Interstate 135 north. We hope to be back within seven hours."

"You'd better destroy that map before you get anywhere near Lebanon," Dean said.

Elijah frowned. "Why?"

"Leave no trace of what you're doing," Caleb said, "Even if it never leaves your pocket."

"We'll let you know when we're taking off," Ethan said, as he and Elijah walked out the door.

Dean paced in the small space between the beds.

"They're going to be fine," Sam encouraged.

"It's risky," Caleb sighed, "but not more so than going in tonight. And Piruz is still human, however long lived. If he drove all night to get here, he'll need to sleep, right?"

Dean didn't offer any speculation on Ethan's plan and its chances of success. Instead, he said, "Let's get to strategizing. Then we can help with the potions."

"How about we go downstairs to the breakfast nook," Sam said. "Breakfast has been cleaned up, so we should be able to talk."

"Yeah," Caleb said, rising. "I want some coffee anyway."

"Me too." Dean followed Caleb to the door.

"Always with the coffee," Sam muttered, though drinking a cup of the hot brew sounded good.

"I'll see if they've got a cappuccino with your name on it," Caleb smirked as he walked into the hall.

"I'm holding you to that!" Sam called out, grabbing the doorknob and closing the door behind him. "I hope you've got your keycard."

* * *

Adam focused as he carefully measured the powder into a small silver bowl. Joshua had asked him to make the time-released potion for the dampener spells he was preparing. It was exacting work that took a tremendous amount of concentration. Blowing out a measured breathe, he sat back in his chair and attempted to shrug the stiffness from his shoulders.

"Need some help?" Ryker asked quietly.

"No, but thank you," Adam said with a smile. "I'm almost finished."

"It's a time-delay for a spell?"

Adam gave his son a proud look and nodded. "Yes. How did you recognize it?"

"You started with an acrylic and chitin mix, then embedded the sustaining ingredients inside. I assume Parrain is mixing a potion that will be poured inside the whole then sealed with magic."

Adam nodded. "Go on."

"As the sustaining ingredient eats through the acrylic/chitin mix, the inside ingredients will be released."

"Well done." Adam was proud that Ryker had learned potion making so well. Of course, as the future Advisor to JT's Triad, he would need those skills in helping the Brotherhood and his Triad just as Joshua used his considerable abilities to help Dean, Caleb and Sam. "What do you suppose is going inside?"

Ryker frowned at his father. It seemed as though Adam was quizzing him like he used years ago. "Well, it could be a lot of things. Most likely it would be an explosive spell set to go off at a designated time."

Adam nodded again. "Yes. But this time the spell inside will dampen magical spells."

"Like dampening the spells from the wizard and the town's people?"

"Yes."

"Won't a dampener do the same to our spells?" Ryker looked around at everyone who was industriously making spell bags to use tonight. "A dampener is a dampener. These things will dampen the town's spells as well as lessen the effectiveness of our own."

"Joshua is making a potion that will diminish the effectiveness of _protection_ spells," Adam explained.

"Ah," Ryker said, understanding. "Right now they hold the high ground. We have to fight them as well as find a way through their protection spells. You and Uncle Joshua are leveling the playing field."

Adam smiled. Leave it to his son to describe the situation in military terms.

"What about our spell pouches?" Ryker asked. "They're for our protection."

"Joshua has a special way to protect those," Adam said.

Ryker gave an internal eye roll and nodded. Of course Joshua would use Triad magic to protect them, something the coven wouldn't know about, something he would not be adding a counter against in the dampening spell. Instead of voicing that, he said, "So, when we get there, we'll still need to contend with their weapons."

"Yes. But with these," Adam nodded at the small silver bowl he was working over, "you hopefully won't need to overcome the protection spells."

Joshua walked over and dropped down next to Adam. "That mixture ready?"

"I'm lining the pouches now," Adam said. He scooped up some of the paste-like mixture and put it in a silk pouch. Then he made a small hole in the middle and handed it over to Joshua.

Joshua carefully poured a thick, gelatinous substance inside the silk pouch, then murmured, "Et prope sigillum." _(Close and seal.)_ He did the same to the other five pouches Adam handed over. Once all six were sitting in a row before him, he opened a small bottle and poured a drop of gold liquid on each one, murmuring, "Passi Sunt De Fratrum munitus." _(Protected by the Triad of the Brotherhood.) _Stepping back, he sighed. "Those are ready."

"Do you think Ethan and Elijah will be able to place them without being detected?" Ryker asked.

"I hope so. They should be undetectable."

Adam frowned at the silk pouches a moment, then held his wand over the first and said, "Dissimulato," and the silk changed into a dirty, almost moldy looking brown.

Ryker wrinkled his nose. "That looks like excrement."

Joshua smiled. "No one will want to pick it up."

"Pick up what?" Ethan said, making his way over to the table. When he glanced down, he said, "That's disgusting."

Elijah made a face. "Why don't you pick those up, big brother."

Ethan grimaced as he reached down slowly and fingered one of the pouches. It felt soft, like silk. But just the thought that it looked like fecal droppings made him grimace. "Great," he muttered, putting the bag into his duffle and adding the others. When he finished, he said, "All right, we're heading out."

"You have your protection pouches?" Joshua asked, knowing they'd already put them on but wanting to make sure.

Caleb walked in through the door of Joshua's bedroom and came over just as Ethan and Elijah pulled their shirts down to show a long leather thong with two small silk pouches at the base.

"One for protection, one for obfuscation," Elijah stated.

Ethan looked at Caleb and rolled his eyes at his brother's "Professor" verbiage.

Joshua merely smiled. He'd already showed the brother's where on the map he'd first felt a protection line. "From that point on, you should be through the town in half an hour, forty-five minutes at the outside. Call when you're a half hour south of Lebanon, let us know you're safe."

"If you get caught," Caleb said, "rip the protection pouches off and call out for me. I'll hear you and we'll come."

Ethan and Elijah both nodded.

"Well," Ethan said, pulling in a deep breath and letting it whoosh out. "Let's get going."

"Make sure your blocks are in place…"

"Before we reach mile marker one-thirty-eight," Elijah parroted what Caleb had told them earlier. "We'll be okay."

"Unless we aren't, then you'll hear me screaming for help," Ethan stated.

Caleb nodded. "Good luck. See you back here at eight."

The brothers walked to the door, opened it and disappeared into the hallway.

"They're going to be all right," Joshua said.

"Yeah," Caleb murmured. Everything about this hunt was dangerous. Piruz was old and powerful, and he didn't like going up against a coven whose purpose was protecting special items and people. He was especially concerned about the impact of the Tree when Piruz let it loose. Watching what Dean went through when he was exposed to the seeds from the Tree made him afraid for the rest of them should they even get close. "How strong can you make the protection pouches for me, Dean and Sam?"

Joshua looked over at Caleb. "You're concerned about getting close to the Tree."

"You saw what happened to Dean, and he just got close to the seeds. And remember what happened to me and Sam? We were only exposed to David Lassiter's mutating cells and we were knocked on our asses." Caleb shook his head, confiding, "I'm afraid of what will happen when we get close to the Tree tonight. Will we even be able to fight?"

"The Tree will remain under Piruz's control…" Joshua began.

"He's going to unleash that Tree the moment we get close," Caleb stated. "You know it, I know it. We need to be prepared."

"Yes," Joshua capitulated with a sigh. "I agree." There was no sense in denying it. "I've been trying to think of various ways to make the protection spells stronger. You know, we could use the help of this coven Piruz is controlling."

Caleb chuckled. "Maybe that's why he's using them; to take them off the board.

"Could Onida offer any insight?" Adam asked. He was still sitting at the small table where he'd been making the time-delayed portion of the spell pouches Ethan and Elijah had taken. Since neither Joshua nor Caleb had seen any reason to keep their voices down, he assumed they had no problem with his listening in. "While she isn't a crafter or a witch, she has insight into earth magic and minerals. For all it's chaos and depth in extending the knowledge of good and evil, the Tree is ultimately of this earth, this soil. Onida may have the key to making the protection pouches even stronger."

Caleb nodded thoughtfully, his eyes going across the room to where Onida was perched on the edge of a queen size bed, measuring a powdered mixture into a silk pouch. "I'll talk to her."

Joshua watched Caleb move away before turning to Adam. "I want you to spearhead making all the potions for tonight, including the protection potions."

Adam's eyes widened slightly, the only indication of his surprise. Joshua was the Advisor to the Triad of the Brotherhood. He wasn't even a member of the club. "Are you sure?"

"You're the best potion maker in the coven. You know why Nadine put up such a fight to keep you in West Virginia."

Adam wasn't given to false modesty, but he was still uncomfortable with the praise. Nodding his head, he said, "I'll do my best."

Joshua hesitated for a moment, then held out a small, fragile glass bottle of golden essence. "Use a drop of this on all the protection pouches; two drops for the pouches for Dean, Caleb and Sam. And say, _Passi Sunt De Fratrum munitus_."

Adam didn't know Latin well, but he knew incantations and enough to know what Joshua had said, _and_ to what he was being entrusted. He wanted to ask what was in the bottle, but figured it was related to Triad magic, so held back. That wasn't meant for him to know. Lifting the bottle slightly, he asked, "Will this work with me doing the incantation?" Joshua was the Advisor to the Brotherhood, not him. Would Brotherhood magic even work if he used it?

"It will be fine," Joshua said. He never mixed a Triad-based potion and carried it around. Yet he had mixed this one in private this morning, ready to use on the team's protection pouches. The reason the bottle was of the thinnest, most fragile glass was so that he could break it should he encounter a threat. If he hadn't trusted Adam with his life and the lives of his family, he would never have entrusted him with the bottle. "This is safe in your hands."

Adam swallowed down his emotions. Instead of voicing his gratitude for the enormous trust Joshua was showing in him, he merely said, "I'll let you know when we're done."

"Thank you. If you can spare him, I'll need Ryker to help me finish a special potion."

"I've got a lot of help, and the expertise of your son," Adam said, his lips quirking slightly. Max was a very good potion maker, though he usually didn't have the patience for task. "I'll put Max in charge of the weaponized potions."

"That would suit him well," Joshua said with a smile. Walking up to Ryker, he asked, "Do you have your room key?"

Ryker stood and nodded.

"Come with me. We have a special job tonight."

* * *

Dean and Sam bent over the small map of Lebanon, taking in all the ways to get into the town, and where the center of the country lay in relationship to the downtown area.

"Piruz will be here," Dean said, pointing to the spot on the map labeled _The Geographic Center of the Forty-Eight States_.

"Doesn't look like there's much cover getting into the park," Sam remarked. "From the map, it looks like trees surround a large grassy park. We'll be completely exposed."

Dean nodded. "Night will be our only cover. Maybe Adam can show you how to do those misdirection spells."

"Me?" Sam had done many spells and rituals before, but he wouldn't by any means consider himself a crafter.

"You know incantations, and you've done spells before," Dean stated. "You're good at memorizing lines in a short period of time."

"We've got three seasoned crafters with us," Sam reasoned. "I'll be fighting with you and Caleb.

"You've done spells before," Dean repeated. "And you know as well as I do that the power is in the words, not in the person speaking them. You may not be a traditional crafter, but you've got the skill to do the incantations."

"Fine," Sam conceded. He wanted to point out that Dean could do the spells just as well as he could, but he knew memorization was a practiced skill, and he was more "practiced" than his brother. "I'll talk to Adam about what he used in Freshkills Park. If the spells are of Native American origin, he may be more reluctant to share them with me. But we'll come up with something."

"That's all I ask," Dean said, quickly turning his eyes back to the map to hide his smirk. "Caleb should take point with his Dark Vader routine," he continued. "He will go in from the north, here, near where we'll park the car. You'll circle around to the west and come in from that side."

Sam frowned, his eyes on the map. "I don't know that I'll be able to get around to the west end. The park is of a good size, and there's no cover on that side."

Dean studied the map. "Yeah, you're right. With our teams fighting in town, I thought to have Piruz's attention drawn in all four direction. But you're right; there's no cover on the west."

"If I came in from the east, his attention will still be divided." Sam studied the map, then shifted his gaze to his brother. "If Caleb goes in first, that puts him in Piruz's crosshairs."

"I know. I want Caleb to be the first in because he got close enough to put a knife to this guy's throat. That had to have made an impression on an ancient wizard who thinks he's got no equal."

"Right," Sam said, acknowledging the tactic. "Then I come in."

"Yeah, from the east. There's cover there from a small tree line and the gas station. Piruz's attention will still be split between the town, Caleb and you."

"Then you come in."

"He thinks I'm gone, tucked away in his little portal getaway. When Piruz is fully engaged with you and Caleb, I'll come in from the south end of the park. Give him the biggest surprise of his life. I hope that will give you, Caleb and Josh the time needed to take him down."

Sam nodded, his eyes on the map. "So, for the others; we'll go with the plan we discussed?"

"Yeah." Dean studied the map alongside his brother. Going over it all again in his mind, he said, "Ethan, Elijah and Onida will enter Lebanon from the east at nine o'clock."

"Opposite side of town and the park," Sam said.

"Piruz will expect the first attack to be at the Tree because that's where he is. When the initial attack comes from the opposite side of town, it'll create confusion."

"Or at the very least, surprise, " Sam agreed. "Then the other attacks come in quick succession."

"Timing is important," Dean murmured, his attention still focused on the map of Lebanon spread out on the table. "At nine o'clock Ethan, Elijah and Onida enter Lebanon from the east, slinging spells, Onida bringing earth storms with her. When the town's resources are focused on the east, JT, James, Max and Ryker come in from the north at nine-fifteen."

"Joshua said he needed Ryker," Sam reminded his brother.

Dean looked up. "Not just for potion making?"

"No, I think he needs him for the spell in the park."

Dean looked back down, restructuring the plan in his mind. "Yeah, okay. That makes three teams of three penetrating the town."

"So JT's team coming in from the north will cause confusion," Sam stated. "Cause if we're at the north end of town, why not just attack the park?"

"Exactly. The townspeople will already be heading east when the commotion comes in from the north. They'll dispatch people in that direction when, at nine-twenty, Joel, Daniel and Adam come in from the south."

"Adam using his misdirection spells to add even more confusion." Sam's eyes racked their battle plan. "You know, they'll probably be expecting us to come in from different angles."

"Probably. But the coven members are protectors, not fighters. They may be under a spell, but Piruz can't get around their basic instincts."

"Like when people are hypnotized. If a person isn't a killer, they can't be made to kill even under hypnosis."

"It's a two-sided coin, and Caleb's right," Dean said. "We can't underestimate the town's people, cause some might be trained. But we've got the edge because we've fought monsters all our lives; we'll have the advantage of staying calm, acting decisively, and staying focused in battle."

"We've got the experience," Sam agreed. Looking around at the door, he asked, "What's keeping Caleb?"

"He wanted to make sure Ethan and Elijah got off all right."

"You mean he wanted to tell them to be careful, not to take chances, and to check in as soon as they get a safe distance out of town or he'd kick their asses."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, all that." Eyes back on the map, he murmured, "Timing is important. Nine o'clock from the east, nine-fifteen from the north, nine-twenty from the south…"

"And nine-twenty-two in the park," Sam stated. After a moment he looked up, asking, "You sure you want Onida and Adam in on this? Onida's been on a handful of hunts, but she isn't a seasoned hunter. And Adam has never been on a hunt before. In Washington he was only there for humanitarian reasons, not fighting."

"I know," Dean sighed. "But I want someone on each team who knows covens and how they work. Onida fought against witches her whole life, and Adam was raised in a coven. While I'd have preferred Ryker be with the boys, Max has a lot of crafter knowledge; Josh made sure of that. And JT has been involved in Joshua's coven since he and Max were kids. If there's any way the coven members can be reached through the spell Piruz has placed on them, I want to give them that chance."

"Joshua has Adam and Onida working on calling the seeds in the boxes to ground zero by magical means. What if he needs them at the park when he enacts his spell to send the Tree back?"

Dean sighed, feeling a zing of frustration, which he quickly squelched. They were too few and needed in too many areas and doing the best they could. But they were working so fast and furious on this hunt, he felt like he kept missing things. "I hope by the time Josh is ready to send the Tree back to Eden, Piruz will be taken care of and everyone will be making their way to the park."

Both men sat studying the map of Lebanon, troubleshooting the plan for their own, unique perspectives. "We're going to kill him," Sam said abruptly, shattering the silence with his blunt statement. "Piruz."

Dean looked up. Everyone knew it had to be done, though none had actually said it outright until now. "I don't know that we'll have much choice. He's been on this track for centuries. If we stop him here and _don't_ kill him, he's just going to come back and do it all over again. History has proven that."

"How many times do you think he's tried before?" Sam asked, curious.

"Josh said the Tree strives to stay together, so it couldn't have been easy getting any part of the Tree from Eden," Dean said with a shrug. "There would have been a lot of steps to take before he could put any sort of plan into action. After that, he probably practiced a lot with the Tree before he gave it a serious try. I bet one of his first full-on tries was against Merlin. That's how he knows about us. He's probably tried at least twice more after the Brotherhood was established, and was stopped. He's got respect, and a whole lot of anger, at the Brotherhood for us _not_ to have had a hand in past defeats."

Sam smiled. It always amazed him how well his brother read people. As he thought about their own past encounters with Piruz - the elaborate plan of setting the boxes around the country, Joshua's suspicions that the inscriptions on the box lids were a decoy to keep them occupied - it made sense that Piruz would have encountered past Triads of the Brotherhood. "So, we kill him," he said. "He's human, you know." He said it mainly for clarification purposes rather than as a deterrent.

"Or did he stop being human when he never died?"

"I don't know that hiding in Eden gives him non-human status," Sam quipped. "However he slipped from Death's grip through the centuries, he's still human. But he does need to be stopped, for good." Sighing, he shook his head. "I'm not sure we have another choice."

Dean nodded, but didn't feel any sense of reluctance to do what had to be done. Piruz was bent on destruction, and he'd been very cold blooded regarding the deaths needed to make his revenge a reality. Well, he could be cold blooded too.

Sitting back in his chair, Sam stretched. Through a slight yawn, he mumbled, "I wish we didn't have to go up against people who were conscripted by Piruz to do his fighting for him."

"He's going to do anything to make sure his plan comes off this time. People are collateral damage to him."

"And a good distraction for us," Sam added.

The bedroom door opened, and Caleb stepped in. "I got an upgrade to the only suite in the hotel," he said, waving a keycard in the air. "We can go in after one. It'll give us a lot more space to work."

"Great," Sam said, standing. "I'll let the boys know so they can finish off whatever potions they're working on and can repack the ingredients to move up there. Want me to order in lunch?"

"That sounds good," Caleb said.

"A burger sounds good," Dean stated, his eyes still on the map.

"Burgers and fries it is," Sam said with a smile.

"Maybe a couple turkey sandwiches," Caleb called out as the door swung shut behind the taller Winchester brother. Turning to Dean, he asked, "You think he heard me?"

"Send him a message," Dean said, tapping his head. "I paired Onida with Ethan and Elijah. They're the most experienced hunters. Are you good with that?"

Caleb nodded. "I'd rather have her with me, but Piruz is the biggest threat so I'm glad she'll be somewhere else." He yawned and dropped onto one of the beds. "She's helping Adam reinforce the protection spells with earth magic."

"Really?" Dean asked, surprised and interested. "How?"

"Don't know. That's her gig, not mine."

"She's your girl," Dean stated. "She didn't say?"

Caleb eyed Dean. He could feel tightly contained waves of unease radiating from his friend. "Is this what you want to talk about?"

Dean swallowed as his throat was suddenly dry. "No. I'm worried about how we'll deal when Piruz sets loose the Chaos Spell and the Tree is free to do its thing."

"Yeah, me too. Sam and I went haywire, and we were only exposed to Lassiter. I spoke to Josh about it."

"And?"

"Adam's going to make the potions bags as strong and layered as possible, and with Onida's help and Triad power, we hope it'll be strong enough to keep us on our feet."

"Adam, not Josh?"

Caleb nodded. "Josh is working on something else."

Dean knew immediately what that was. "Relocating the Tree back to Eden."

"I expect so," Caleb said. "That's a big task."

"He'll figure it out," Dean said confidently.

"How do you know?"

"Pastor Jim knew Josh was a talented crafter. Otherwise he wouldn't have picked him as Advisor."

"Yeah." Though he still wished Joshua was the one making their protection pouches, Caleb shifted his attention to their plans for that night. "Let's go over the incursion plan again."

* * *

Joshua bent over the small desk in his room and measure out another tablespoon of Sambucus Nigra into a rose quartz bowl followed by a measured pinch of Agna Aura, murmuring incantations the entire time. When he finished, Ryker leaned over and handed him a small vial. Nodding, he took the vial and measured out a teaspoon of Astrophyilite. Pouring it slowly into the bowl, he said the fourth part of the incantation. When he finished, he sat back and took the handkerchief Ryker handed him and wiped his brow.

"We're doing this twice?" Ryker asked.

Joshua nodded.

Ryker frowned, staring at the two large pouches sitting on the table.

"Question?" Joshua asked softly.

"You want to move the Tree from here back to Eden," Ryker said. "Don't you need something from Eden to direct the spell?"

Joshua smiled and pulled one of the boxes that had been retrieved from the clubs around the country. "Just before we close off the spell, we'll take a couple seeds from the box and put them into the spell pouches." He hadn't yet approached Dean about this aspect of the spell. The Guardian would need to go back inside the protection circle for the purpose of opening the box and extracting seeds for the pouches. Dean had already been exposed to the seeds and, though not unscathed, had come out in fairly decent shape; and that without wearing a protection spell pouch inside the circle. Sam and Caleb's psychic abilities would make their taking on that task much riskier.

Ryker nodded. "The inscriptions on the top of the boxes have cardinal points. Are you putting these pouches in carinal positions?"

"The inscriptions were a misdirection," Joshua said. "They didn't have anything to do with the spell…" his voice trailed off. Slowly he picked up the box and stared at the lid. The boxes told the story of what was inside and from whence the seeds had come. Every line on the box, every symbol told the story and enhanced the theme. But the cardinal points were different. They didn't connect to the story at all. Yes, Piruz had placed the ones with westward markings on the West Coast, the southern cardinal points in the South and so on. But they didn't fit in with the overall structure of the narrative. Could he have been right _and_ wrong about Piruz's intentions for the inscription on the lids?

Frowning, he went over every line and symbol again. They were all intertwined to tell the story, but the cardinal symbols were not a part of the narrative. Reaching across the table, he pulled a piece of paper toward him and began to write. Carefully he drew the cardinal points and connected them by a circle. He then drew a circle within the center to represent the Tree. "North, south, east, west," he murmured.

"The stages of life," Ryker murmured.

Joshua's head jerked up. "What?"

"In Native American culture, the cardinal points can represent the stages of life; East for birth, South for youth, West adulthood and North for death."

"Strength through generations," Joshua murmured, remembering Dean saying that Pastor Jim had meant those words for him.

"I guess you could say that," Ryker agreed. "The earth is old, and the sun has seen many generations of humanity. Many older cultures throughout the world consider the rotation of the sun and the cardinal points as stages in a life. Some go even deeper than the traditional stages. For example, Stage I: Play, Imitation and Education. Stage II: Self-Discovery, Enterprise and Adventurousness. Stage III: Dedication, Contemplation and Benevolence. Finally, Stage IV: Retirement, Wisdom and Renunciation."

Joshua was only half listening as he studied the diagram. Suddenly he turned to Ryker and said, "I need you to make two more of these spell pouches."

Ryker's face paled in surprise and trepidation. The spell was extremely complicated, and he didn't want to do anything wrong. Too much was riding on this spell working. "I… Shouldn't I continue to aide you?"

"There is another task I must complete, and it will take all my concentration." Seeing the unease on Ryker's face, Joshua smiled. "If I didn't have one-hundred percent confidence that you could mix this spell and do it correctly, I wouldn't have suggested it. There is no one," he emphasized, "that I would trust more to make this spell than you."

Ryker gave his Godfather a weak smile. "Not even dad?"

"Not even your father," Joshua stated. Adam was a master potion maker, and Ryker had learned from the best. "As I trust Adam, so I trust you."

Taking a deep breath to still his frazzled nerves, Ryker straightened his shoulders and nodded. "All right."

"The ingredients and incantations are all written down here," Joshua said, touching a long piece of paper. Sometimes it was good to be a meticulous potion maker. "When you finish the spells, leave the pouches open as I have here. We'll add Triad magic after we place the seeds within. I'll be right here if you need me."

Ryker nodded. Picking up the detailed spell, he read through it three times, taking note of every single measurement and incantation, before he pulled out two more spell pouches and began laying out the ingredients.

Joshua walked to the small table at the other side of the room, his legal pad in hand. Glancing back at Ryker, he noted the young man was reading through the spell. "I'm going to talk to Dean. I'll be back shortly, so don't start until then."

Ryker nodded and continued his preparations.

Joshua left the room. Pulling out his cell, he sent a text to Caleb asking where they were, knowing Dean would be with him. He didn't think Dean had gotten a new battery for his cell yet. After a moment, he walked down to the room Sam and Dean were occupying, and knocked on the door.

"Josh," Dean said, stepping back so the Advisor could come inside.

"I'd like to speak with you a moment," Joshua said, staying in the hallway. He saw only Caleb inside, but he wanted to explain without the Knight listening. He would fight Dean going back into the protection circle, Caleb and Sam both would. He didn't have the time to deal with that.

Caleb rose and walked to the door. "What's up?"

"I just need to have a word with Dean," Joshua explained. "Alone."

Caleb frowned, but Dean merely nodded and said to the Knight, "I'll be right back."

Once they were both in the hallway, Joshua decided not to beat around the bush. "I need you to go back into a protective circle and open one of the seed boxes."

Dean stared at Joshua, not letting the other man see that his pulse had jumped into overdrive. He didn't want to. He didn't want to go back into the pit, he didn't want to hear Alistair's voice in his ear telling him he was a good boy.

Though Dean's face remained set, Joshua knew his friend. One only needed to look into Dean's expressive eyes to see all his emotions bubbling behind that stony façade. "I wouldn't ask unless it was necessary to complete the spell to send the Tree back to the Garden," he explained. "The Tree is in our world. To send it back to its home, I need to add something to the spell that is Eden. The seeds are that something."

Slowly Dean asked, "Isn't the Tree enough to recall Eden?"

"It is the object we want to send, and therefore cannot be used. If we were able to get close, I'd take some leaves, though I doubt they would stay in the spell bags. The Tree wants to remain whole, with all its leaves, branches and seeds intact. That seems to have been Piruz's quandary: how to keep the seeds from going back to the Tree. That's why he used his magic to keep them in the box."

"Won't you have the same problem?"

"Yes, I imagine so. That's why we'll take the seeds from the box inside the circle and place them in the spell bags. Once they're inside the bags, I'll use Triad magic to keep them there until they're all sent back to Eden."

"What about the boxes around the country?"

"Onida has been working with Adam. He's writing a spell that focuses on the minerals in seeds, calling them with the use of magnetics. That should circumvent Piruz's magic."

Dean nodded. With a sigh, he nodded. "Yeah, okay. Hopefully we can get in and get out."

"We'll just open the box, pull out a couple seeds for each spell bag, then close the lid." Joshua sighed in relief. He'd known Dean would agree; that's just who he was. But he had hated asking. "I'll also want you to try wearing a new protection pouch."

"New?"

"The Tree is powerful. Combine the power of the Tree with the Chaos Spell, and I'm worried about how you'll do in a battle with Piruz, especially Caleb and Sam."

"Yeah, we've talked about that."

"I've devised new, stronger protection pouches for you to wear."

"And I'm your guinea pig," Dean commented wryly.

Joshua smiled. "Yes, you'll be the first to try it."

Dean stared down the empty hallway, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. Finally he asked, "When do you want to do this?"

"I'll come get you when we're ready, probably within the hour. Ryker and I will finish making the spell bags. Then you'll add the seeds, and I'll seal them inside with Triad magic."

Pulling his eyes back to Joshua, Dean said, "All right. I'll be ready."

"Dean, thank you," Joshua said earnestly. "You know I wouldn't ask unless it was absolutely necessary."

"I know," Dean said with a small smile. "That's why I don't mind … much."

Joshua headed back to his own room, his mind on rewriting the spell he'd created to send the Tree back to Eden. _Strength through generations_. It was possible there was more to the spell than he'd originally considered. Caleb's advice to focus on moving something that shouldn't be here back where it belonged was an important part of sending the Tree back to Eden. But now he had a sense that there was another part he had dismissed. Eden had been closed to mankind since the beginning of time. Breaching its boundaries to return a stolen object would take an enormous amount of power. Could he draw that from the cardinal points? Could he draw that power from the east, south, west and north?

He needed to rework the spell and time was short. He hoped he could finish it in time. If not, all their work would be for nothing.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Reminder: At the half-way point of this chapter, Ryker refers to Joshua as Parrain, which means Godfather. As Adam's best friend, Joshua is Ryker's Godfather._

_Reference: The time-delayed spells were used in "The Guard Changed at Dawn."_


	24. Chapter 24

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 24

.

"We're approaching mile marker one-thirty-seven," Elijah said, his eyes on the side of the road.

Ethan tripped his right-hand signal and moved onto the shoulder of the highway, slowing to a stop.

Elijah stared at his brother, his brows raised. "Why are we stopping?"

Ethan didn't speak for a moment, then he said, "I have an odd feeing about this one."

Frowning, Elijah asked, "As in we shouldn't go in and place the spell bags?"

"No. I'm not sure what it is."

"Maybe it's another spell. Joshua felt something too, you know, before they reached the protection line. Maybe this is what Joshua was feeling when they pulled off. Caleb and Sam would have been in full-on block mode, and Joshua would have been focused on where the protection line began."

"And Dean?" Ethan asked, amusement in his voice.

"Dean's the Guardian…"

"And the Guardian mind is different," Ethan finished.

"Yeah." Elijah leaned forward and scanned the countryside ahead and along the side. "Maybe that feeling of trepidation urges truckers and drivers to get through Smith County faster so the townspeople don't have to worry about them stopping in Lebanon."

"Yeah, maybe." Ethan ran a hand over his face. He was used to danger, and used to paying attention to that sense of danger.

"Do you want to turn back?" Elijah asked, his tone serious. "This was our idea, something that wasn't planned. No one will ask any questions."

Ethan shook his head. His instincts were telling him to turn back, instincts honed through decades of police work and longer years of hunting. But this wasn't the first time he'd gone on despite their protest. Of course, the results of his ignoring them had been mixed, and he didn't want to risk his brother.

"I'll take the risk," Elijah said softly, knowing exactly what his brother was thinking. They were twins, after all.

Ethan huffed out a short laugh. "Yeah, okay. But the moment we detect anything off, we're out of there. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"We need to commit to this scenario one hundred percent," Ethan said for perhaps the tenth time. "This is going to be the performance of our lives."

Elijah nodded. "From this moment on, we're on stage."

"We're the best actors the world has ever seen," Ethan intoned.

"Don't get crazy," Elijah said, his eyes belaying his teasing tone.

Making sure his blocks were firmly in place, Ethan gave his brother a reassuring nod.

Elijah returned the gesture, his blocks up and strong. "We're just a couple of guys on a road trip. Nothin' to see here."

"Then let's go, Obi Wan." Ethan looked over his left shoulder and waited for a truck to pass before he pulled back onto the road. "Spell dust ready?"

"Yes." Elijah pulled some of the same dust Joshua had used the night before and placed it in a small cup on the dashboard. "Fourteen miles before Highway 191."

"Annnddd ... Action," Ethan mumbled. Reaching forward, he slipped a disc into the player on the SUV's dashboard. Suddenly music of the Jason Boland and the Straggler's cover of George Strait's _Proud Soul_ filled the vehicle.

_I been on the road now dang near all my life; An' I do love to sing a song._

_I can say I've worked hard, put in my time; now it's time to go home._

_And catch up on my chores; watch the sunset from my porch._

A few miles down the road, the dust in the small cup sparkled while the pair of them continued to sing. They'd past a protection line. Elijah leaned forward and took the cup from the dashboard. Pulling out a lighter, he set the mixture on fire and watched as the potion was completely burned. He then opened the window and dumped the ashes out before placing the small cup back into his duffle. When he sat back up, he shouted over the music, "Don't you want some lunch?"

"Lunch?" Ethan called back before turning down the volume. "We're in the middle of nowhere, dude. Have some jerky."

"I hate jerky," Elijah stated, playing along with their rehearsed plan.

"Don't you have your laptop, nerd?"

"Seriously? Aren't you a little old to be calling me _nerd_?" griped Elijah as he pulled out his cell.

"You're never too old to hack off your brother," Ethan stated jovially.

"Jerk," Elijah muttered. Pulling up the Internet, he scrolled around for a moment before saying, "There's supposed to be a town ahead."

"Yeah?" Ethan pretended to look around. "Where? It's like _Little House on the Prairie_ out here."

Elijah laughed. "Little House? Seriously?"

"I used to read it to Gabrielle when she was little. And it's set somewhere around here."

"Laura Ingalls Wilder grew up in Wisconsin," Elijah answered, as though he couldn't help himself.

"Ha!" Ethan crowed. "You know where the Little House girl grew up!"

"I had girls too," Elijah said, though his voice was filled with sorrow.

Ethan looked over at Elijah, regretful for where their fake conversation had led them. Ethan's daughter Sydney had been killed in a University campus shooting a few years before. "I'm sorry."

"It's been years," Elijah said softly.

"That doesn't make it any better."

"No," Elijah said, glancing over at Ethan. "No, it doesn't."

At that moment Ethan spied the signs for State Highway 191 ahead. A quick look at Elijah told him his brother had as well. Continuing on with the conversation, he said, "Let's stop a moment, all right?"

Elijah nodded. "Yeah, that would be good." They weren't sure their conversation could be heard by the spells cast around Lebanon, but they were taking no chances.

There was a small turnout right before the cross roads of US 281 and Hwy 191. Ethan pulled the SUV to the side of the road, put the car in park and turned off the engine.

Elijah pushed open the door and stepped outside the vehicle, striding a few yards away. Head down, he took a few deep breaths as though he were troubled. Truthfully, thinking of Sydney brought both joy and sorrow. He'd loved her laugh, her wit, her stubbornness and her generous spirit. He walked on, his footsteps drifting and seemingly aimless. He was glad that Sydney and Cecily had been so different, because though they were identical twins, he didn't see Sydney in her sister, and that made things easier on him and his wife.

Ethan climbed from the SUV, went slowly to the front of the car and leaned into the hood, his eyes on his brother. His blocks were up and strong, the words to Whitey Morgan and the 78's _Hard Scratch Pride_ running through his head:

_When I left that holler I was just a boy, flat-broke and busted and hell-bent to make it on my own._

_Hell, I couldn't go back home, I could hear that train, it moans a lonesome song…_

"Are you all right?"

Ethan had heard the car coming west on Hwy 191, had felt the car pull slowly onto the gravel behind him. Still, he jerked around in surprise. Shading his eyes from the sun, he focused on the man parked across US 281. "What?"

A short, squat man stood across the street beside an old Toyota Avalon Hybrid. It appeared he was heading north. "Are you all right?" the man repeated. His stance appeared casual, but Ethan noted the tension in his shoulders and the way his arms hung motionless at his sides.

Inside the sparse woods, Elijah tripped a little and leaned against a tree surrounded by bushes. Palming the spell bag in his pocket, he crouched down on the pretense of retying his boot, slipping the pouch under a particularly thick bush. Head down, he wiped the tears from his eyes. They had been real, a testament to the loss of his baby girl.

Back on the road, Ethan nodded his reply. "Yeah." Looking both ways, he jogged across the highway. "We just needed a moment."

The man's eyes narrowed. "This isn't a safe intersection for a stroll."

Ethan sighed. He was going to have to go for it. "I stepped in it with my brother and mentioned my niece."

"Your niece?" the man questioned, his gaze on the patch of trees across the street where Elijah could barely be seen.

"Yeah. She was killed by a campus shooter a few years ago," Ethan explained. "My brother just needed a moment to regain his composure. Sorrow sometimes hits you like that, you know?"

The man's shoulders relax a little and he nodded. "Yes."

Ethan turned and could see Elijah wiping his eyes and walking back toward the SUV. "Damn it," he muttered. He hated to see the sorrow etched in Elijah's frame.

"He'll be all right," the man said, a note of sorrow in his voice.

"Yeah, he will," Ethan agreed, his eyes still on his brother as Elijah emerged from the trees. "Until it hits him again." With a sigh, he turned and said, "Thank you for your concern."

The man nodded. "Where are you heading?"

"Medford. Got a few more hours in the car," Ethan said. "Is there a place to get something to eat nearby?"

The man hesitated, then said, "There's a Midway Co-Op Gas Station heading into town, and a small grocery down Main Street."

"Anything is better than beef jerky," Ethan remarked. Seeing Elijah standing near the car, he looked both up US 281 before saying, "Thanks for the concern!" and jogging back across the street. When he got to the SUV, he climbed inside beside his brother. "You all right?"

Elijah gave his brother a small smile, saying, "I'm fine, good."

Ethan nodded and started up the engine. After a look over his shoulder, he pulled the SUV back onto the road and they headed into Lebanon.

* * *

"No!" Sam stated vehemently, dropping a box loaded with burgers and sandwiches on the table. Dean and Caleb were setting up in the newly-acquired suite at the Holiday Inn Express, clearing the table for the boys when they brought the potion ingredients upstairs.

Dean hurriedly checked to make sure no drinks spilled, but they were all in bottles with screw-top lids.

"That's what I said," Caleb stated, picking up the box of food and moving it to the sideboard. "Have this out quick. Johnny and the others are on their way up."

Sam growled at Caleb's casual tone, but instead of confronting the Knight, he stepped over to Dean. "I don't want you to do this."

"I don't want to do it either," Dean said ruefully. "But Josh needs seeds from Eden added to the potion to send the Tree back," he shrugged in as nonchalant a manner as he could.

"The Tree being from there isn't enough of a direct connection?" Sam demanded.

"Apparently not," Dean said with a sigh. He'd already gone over all this with Caleb, and didn't relish treading the same ground with Sam. Truthfully, he was tired and would have liked to lie down and get a short nap. Maybe his dream stroll in Eden wasn't enough rejuvenation to counter the stress of going back into the protection circle with the death seeds, as he called them in his head. Or maybe the euphoria he felt being there, even in a dream, had worn off.

"Get some sleep," Caleb said, snagging a keycard from the table.

"Huh?" Dean blinked down at the card.

"Sleep," Caleb repeated. "You need it."

"I'm not through here," Sam stated belligerently. There was no way he wanted his brother back in that ring with the seeds from Eden.

"I'll be your whipping boy," Caleb quipped, shoving Dean in the direction of the door.

Sam did not see the humor. Scowling, he hissed, "Don't talk to me like I'm throwing a tantrum here!"

Caleb whirled around. "Aren't you?"

Sam felt his face grow hot and his rage bubbled. "No, I'm not," he growled.

"Sam…"

"Dean, out," Caleb ordered.

Dean's eyes narrowed, but he didn't snap back. They were all tired and their nerves were stretched taunt.

Caleb sighed and made a supreme effort to hang onto his temper. Though he'd tried to talk Dean out of going back into the protection circle to open the box, he could readily admit that neither he nor Sam could do it themselves. And he certainly wasn't going to let JT, James, Max or Ryker do the deed. If Joshua said he needed the seeds for the spell, then he needed the seeds and that was all there was to it. "This is difficult for us to accept, so you're just going to have to deal with the bad tempers. Sam and I will talk. You get some sleep."

Dean's jaw clenched as he held onto his own temper. Did Caleb think he wanted to go back into that damned circle? He would do what was needed to get the job done, and that was all there was to it.

_I know._

Dean looked up and met Caleb's eyes.

_You already went through this with me. Let me deal with Sam._

Letting the anger drain away, Dean gave a sharp nod and walked out of the room.

Turning to Sam, Caleb held up a hand to forestall the rage that still sat on the other man's face. "I know you don't want him doing this. We both know what he went through," he said. "But Josh said he needed some seeds to aim the spell back to Eden. Why can't the Tree be enough?" he went on, anticipating all Sam's questions because he'd asked them himself. "Because the Tree is the object of the spell, so apparently it can't direct itself in that circumstance. Why not use leaves from the Tree? Because we won't be able to get close enough to get them, and if we could, Josh doesn't think the leaves will stay away from the Tree long enough to be of any use in the spell. Why can't you or I do it? Because we couldn't even get close to Lassiter without our senses going haywire. Who else can do it? No one."

Sam's hands clenched. He recognized the truth in everything Caleb had said, but he felt like his anger and frustration over the situation had no place to go, and that was just as frustrating as the situation.

Caleb smiled in sympathy. "Been there; I get it."

Needing a moment, Sam gave the Knight a grudging nod and walked out the door just as JT, James and Max were coming down the hallway, their arms loaded down with potion ingredients.

"Hold the door!" James cried out, picking up his pace as he approached. Smiling at Sam, he went into the suite followed by Max.

JT, however, frowned at his uncle. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam said. "I'm fine." Then gave himself a mental head slap for having used one of his most hated phrases.

"Yeah, that doesn't fly with me either," JT stated. "Need a walk?"

Sam nodded. "I'll be back in a bit."

"I'll go with," JT said. Stepping inside the suite, he handed off his box of ingredients as well as the potion bags piled on top to Max, then returned to the hallway. Not giving Sam a chance to object, he merely called over his shoulder, "You coming?" and walked down to the elevator.

Sam growled inside and muttered, "Uppity nephews." Having no choice but to follow, he walked down the hall to the elevator.

When the pair had stepped outside the front entrance to the hotel, Sam immediately walked off to the side and was soon striding down the dirt road that ran behind the Holiday Inn Express. Setting an aggressive pace, he nevertheless refrained from moving in too forced a fashion. He couldn't be mad at JT, not ever. However, he had needed to be alone, and JT's presence was intrusive. But he'd learned a very long time ago that one didn't always get what they want when they wanted it. Fate often intervened to give people what they _needed_.

JT didn't speak or remark on the pace. He simply walked a little behind his uncle, merely being there and watching the current Brotherhood Scholar's back. When Sam slowed, he did as well.

Not turning, Sam sighed. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need," JT said softly.

Sam shifted slowly around to face his nephew, his eyes sad. "Your dad is going to do something I don't want him to do."

JT watched his uncle for a moment, then asked, "Is there any other choice?"

Sam's shoulders slumped. "Not really." He resumed his walked, this time at a more moderate pace with JT at his side. "I just get tired of Dean always getting the crap end of the stick."

JT nodded. He hated that his dad seemed to get the dirty jobs. But then, he thought most of the jobs in the Brotherhood were dirty jobs. It was something he'd had to accept years ago when he discovered he was destined to be the next Guardian. The Brotherhood wasn't a job; it was a calling whose answer needed to be made with a resounding yes, or the life would be untenable.

He'd always known what his father did, Dean had insisted on telling first him, then James when they were old enough to understand. In those early days, he'd viewed the life of a hunter as the glamorous, heroic life of a musketeer. And indeed, those in the Brotherhood were heroes of the unsung variety. It wasn't until he was older that he saw all the wounds, the broken bones, the tired eyes, the long drives, the night's away, the toll his father being gone had on his mother. His journey to being in line for the Guardian had been made through years of training, low-level hunts, onto more strategic hunts and tougher trials, through doubts and pain. Then, after Sydney's death, he'd made the decision and chosen this life. He would make the sacrifices, though he knew they would never be easy, just as his father did. Sometimes the human spirit just couldn't help but rail against the inevitable every now and again.

Eyeing his uncle, JT remarked adroitly, "I'm sorry you feel you don't get enough of the dirty jobs."

Sam glanced over at his nephew and couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up inside. JT often knew the exact right thing to say. A trait he shared with his father. And yes, he would rather it was he who stepped into the protection circle and opened the box. It was one dirty job he would have taken on gladly. "Yeah." Stopping, he stood with his hands on his hips, letting his breathing even out. "I suppose we should head back."

JT smiled. "Think there are other dirty jobs we can do?"

"Shut up," Sam grumbled good-naturedly, shoving his nephew back down the dirt road. "We've got a lot of potion and spell bags to make."

"I think Max and James are going to be annoyed we walked out on them."

"I'm sure they're busy eating our lunch," Sam remarked.

"Seriously? Damn."

Sam picked up the pace. "Yeah. We better hurry or there'll be nothing left."

"Naw. Max will save me some."

"You sure?"

JT nodded. "And Dad and Uncle Caleb have your back. They'll make sure your food is safe."

"Yeah," Sam said, warmth going through his body. "Yeah, they will."

* * *

Dean dropped onto the bed in his and Sam's room. He hated it when Sam and Caleb put up a fight, especially when the outcome was going to be the same. Of course, he would have done the same, had done the same for decades in his attempts to protect Sam. Pot-kettle and all that. It was the curse and blessing of family, double-sided in all its glory.

Trying to relax, he couldn't help his mind going back to the last time he'd opened the box of seeds. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he tried to block out the whispering echoes of Alastair's voice. With a sigh, he flipped onto his side, pounded the pillow beneath his head and tried to make himself comfortable. Steadying his breathing, he thought _in and out_, _in and out_, forcing his mind back to Eden. Focusing on the peace, the sunlight, the trees, he continued to breath in and out until his tired body finally accepted sleep.

**.**

A piece of fruit appeared in his hand and Dean looked down, surprised. A smile spread like quicksilver across his face. Closing his eyes, he turned his face up towards the sun and sighed, letting the strength and peace of Eden wash through him. Somehow, instinctively, he knew he wouldn't be able to come back here in his dreams once the Tree was back in its proper place. Somehow the Tree being in their world had forge a bridge with Eden, one he was allowed to cross at the moment. He was resigned to this nirvana ending, but also determined to enjoy it for as long as fate allowed him access.

Stepping forward, he bit into the fruit. This one was a pale blue with white spots around the stem. It tasted like honey and blackberries and sent tingles of energy throughout his body. Like other fruit in Eden, this piece was also seedless, and he wondered from which tree it had fallen. He wouldn't mind enjoying another piece, and the instant the thought crossed his mind, another dropped into his hand. Looking up, he saw dozens of pale blue fruit hanging from a tree by which he was standing. "Thank you," he murmured, and ate the second piece.

Turning from the shade of the trees, he walked into the sunlit meadow. Carefully he lay down on the grass. It was a different feeling than grass he was used to. This grass felt warm and cushioned, and he sighed as his eyes closed.

"I think I love this too."

Immediately his eyes popped back open and he jerked upright. Sitting right beside him was Pastor Jim. "Jim! What are you doing here?"

Jim was looking around, his eyes wide and sparkling. "I believe I'm here because _you're_ here, my boy." Face filled with delight and awe, he murmured, "Thank you for bringing me."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Jim said. "But I plan on enjoying it." Still grinning, he lay back on the thick, green grass. "This feels wondrous, like a mattress."

"I know," Dean exclaimed. Jumping to his feet, he jogged back to the tree, looked up and asked, "Can I have one more piece of fruit?" A third piece of pale blue fruit dropped into his hand and he raced back to the Pastor. "Here, give this a try."

Jim took the fruit and bit in. "Ummm," he hummed, savoring the taste. "This is wonderful. I think I will remember this for a very long time."

Dean laughed. "So, how come you're in dream Eden?"

"Oh," Pastor Jim murmured in surprise, setting aside the fruit. "I forgot why I was here."

Dean smiled. Yeah, Eden did that.

"I wanted to tell you that you will be fine when you re-open the boxes."

The smile slid from Dean's face.

"It took years of hard work and healing for you to conquer your time in hell. You have achieved so much: do not allow doubts to undermine all your work." Absently Jim picked back up the fruit and rose. Taking a bite, he started walking, forcing Dean to rise and follow. When he swallowed, he continued, "You are not defined by that one moment in time."

"By those forty years in time," Dean said softly.

Jim nodded slowly. "You chose a path that caused you untold trauma and pain, a path that cleaved into you scars that will remain throughout your life. However, you have the choice not to be ruled by those scars."

Dean felt stung. He didn't view being traumatized by an up close and personal recall of his time with Alastair as being _ruled_ by hell. He'd spent a lot of years working hard to make up for the pain he'd caused in hell; a lot of years working to overcome those memories. Halting abruptly, he turned toward the tree line, his face set.

"Let these scars fade like those that mar your body and you will be free," Jim said. "The memories will not be able to hurt you any longer."

Shaking his head, Dean said, "How?"

Jim smiled. "Do you think just anyone could have brought me here?"

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. "What?"

"I did not bring you here, my boy. _You_ brought _me_. That's some powerful Guardian mojo you've got there. "

"I…"

Jim's smiled widened. "You brought me because you needed to talk. The Garden allowed me in because you needed it to be so."

"I don't understand."

"Guardians have the ability to meet on the astral plane. I don't think I ever read of a living Guardian bringing a former Guardian anywhere. But if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that because you are fighting to restore the Garden, the Garden is trying to help you accomplish that task. You needed to speak with me, so the Garden allowed it to happen."

Dean looked around at the magnificent trees, the animals grazing and sleeping in the shade, the breeze ruffling the leaves and the fruit gently swaying on the vine. Shaking his head, he asked, "Eden is letting me in?"

"And by extension, me as well," Pastor Jim stated. Stepping forward, he looked up at the golden fruit hanging from a nearby tree. "I wonder what these taste like." At his words, a piece of fruit dropped into his hands. Grinning, he glanced over at Dean and said, "Too bad my apple trees weren't always so obliging. I could have saved many an hour climbing up and down ladders." Taking a bite, he savored the tangy flavor.

Curious, Dean asked, "What does it taste like?"

"Like sugar on grapefruit," Jim said wonderingly.

Dean smiled as they continued their walk.

It seemed like a long time and only seconds before Jim said, "I'm must leave now."

"What?" Dean exclaimed, startled.

"I was gifted this wonderful experience to talk to you, but now my time is up." Jim smiled. "You, Sam, Caleb and Joshua; you're doing an outstanding job. I could not have hoped for more. Things are going to get interesting very soon."

Dean rolled his eyes at the twinkle in the Pastor's eyes. "You always know more than you're saying, don't you?"

"Of course, my boy. That's part of the fun."

Jim's voice faded on the word _fun_, as he disappeared. Sighing, Dean looked around. Suddenly the Garden seemed lonely. He was usually the one waking up, not that other way around. With a sigh, he walked to the next tree and dropped down. He wondered how he could accept his scars and let them fade. He had thought they were faded, mostly. It was touching the seeds that had brought it all back.

Turning his mind away from those thoughts, he shifted and lay back on the carpeted grass, closing his eyes. The breeze caressed his face and soon, that soothing peace crept over his body and his muscles began to relax. Something dropped beside him and he opened lazy eyes to see a piece of fruit, ruby red this time. Picking it up, Dean took a bite and immediately felt regret and sorrow flood his mind. His breath caught in his throat as the sorrow moistened his eyes. Then, just as quickly, a wash of gentle understanding chased the sorrow away. Emotions clogged his throat as forgiveness flooded his soul. The sense was so profound, he couldn't take another bite of the glowing red fruit. Setting the ruby orb aside, he curled onto his side and fell asleep.

* * *

Joshua ran fingers through his hair as he read through the complex spell he'd written. He had been a crafter for so many years, that coming up against circumstances that strained his knowledge and expertise were rare. This was definitely one. He glanced at Ryker over his shoulder. The younger man was measuring out the Litio and slowly pouring it into his mixture while murmuring and stirring counter-clockwise. When he had finished, Joshua stood.

"Are you all right for me to step into the hall a moment?"

Ryker picked up a bathroom hand towel and wiped it over his face. "Yeah," he said, leaning back in the chair. "I need a moment as well."

Nodding, Joshua walked across the floor and let himself out into the hall. There he paced up and down, trying to drain the tension from his muscles. The theory was sound, but he'd never done anything like this before; no one in Brotherhood history had done something like this before. How he wished he could speak with his mother. Even Mac, or Missouri, though his relationship with the latter had grown much colder after her father's perfidy. Ben Mosley had kept valuable Advisor information away from a Triad that was going through the very Apocalypse. It was unforgivable and a betrayal of the Brotherhood whom he had sworn to serve. And that Missouri had supported her father's decision was an equal betrayal of Pastor Jim, John, and his step-father, Mac. But at this point, he wanted to talk with anyone so badly, even Missouri would be a welcome sounding board.

With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, his gaze going back to his room. In truth, he could talk to Ryker. The Advisor-to-be was an expert potion maker and an accomplished spell caster. However, as Ryker's mentor, there was a boundary there that he couldn't cross at this time. They were not colleagues; they were teacher and student. What he needed was _his_ mentor, someone with whom he could talk out the complexities of this spell, who could tell him he was on the right path. Suddenly he pulled his cell from his pocket. There was one person that he could talk to, bare his soul and voice his fears. Hitting speed dial, he smiled when a welcome voice answered.

"You okay?" Caleb asked.

"Yeah," Joshua said, closing his eyes. "I need a moment. Can you come down to my room?"

"I'll be there in a second."

Joshua closed the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He could already feel the tension easing from his shoulders. No, Caleb didn't know potions or spell casting, but at the moment that didn't matter. He just needed to bounce his thoughts against a strong surface, and Caleb provided that.

The doorway to the stairs banged open and Caleb stalked out. After looking both ways, he jogged down the hall to where Joshua stood. Giving the other man an assessing look, he asked, "What's up?"

Joshua smiled. The question was so Caleb, it was steadying in its own way. "I just needed a moment away from spells, potions and ingredients."

"A moment of sanity, huh?" Caleb quipped.

"A moment," Joshua repeated.

Caleb merely nodded and leaned against the wall, waiting.

Joshua paced a bit before saying, "This is complicated magic."

Watching, Caleb merely nodded.

"I've never done anything like this before."

"Not even with Malachi Harris?" Caleb asked.

"No, not really. I mean, there were a lot of spells in the Vangelo that were dark magic, but most of those I don't remember."

Caleb pushed off the wall, his expression concerned. "Are you doing dark magic, magic from the Vangelo?"

"No," Joshua said, then frowned. The spell he'd written definitely pushed the boundaries of magic, but it didn't feel dark or evil. "When Sam came back from the future, he destroyed the Vangelo. I'd barely gone through much of the book at that time, and most of what I did read I don't really remember, it was so long ago."

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked. "We can send that Tree back to Eden some other way."

"You don't even know the way I'm planning on sending it," Joshua said with a smile.

Caleb shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You'll come up something else. I've have every confidence."

Joshua felt his anxiety melt away. Maybe that was what he needed to hear. He used to hear those words from his mother, from Pastor Jim, from Mac. Now they were coming from Caleb, and they held all the comfort and encouragement as if they were said by those of the past. "No, the spell I created isn't dark. But it's stronger than anything I've ever written. It's complicated and dangerous in its own right." Looking Caleb in the eye, he said, "I'm…" he let the intent of his words hang without voicing them.

Caleb stepped away from the wall. "You are the best crafter I've ever seen. Brunhilda wanted you in her coven so badly, she poisoned me to make it happen."

Joshua rolled his eyes at Caleb's never-ending dramatics regarding his unfortunate run-in with Agatha Hennings years before. "Nadine didn't poison you, Agatha did, against the wishes of the coven."

"Didn't stop Artemisia from taking advantage of the situation now, did it?"

"Her name is Nadine," Joshua repeated.

"And she practically conscripted you! Impressment," Caleb stated, jabbing a finger in Joshua's direction. "She impressed you like they did in the British Royal Navy, like it was the sixteenth century!"

Joshua hid his smile. Caleb would never absolve Nadine nor the coven of forcing him to become a member by holding the antidote for the poison used on Caleb over their heads. That the situation had ended up being a benefit to Joshua in the long run wasn't enough to earn Caleb's forgiveness.

"She acted like Queen Boudicca, but with a vision to enhancing her own power rather than saving her people," Caleb grumbled. The added, "Although, Boudicca was said to have been as brutal as any man."

"What is it with you and ancient female matriarchs?"

Caleb gave a small shrug. "Onida was curious, so we've been looking into historical female warriors."

Intrigued, Joshua asked, "How many have you read about?"

"History was written by men, so there's not that many listed. But so far we've found ten," Caleb admitted. "But forget about that. What about this spell? Is it safe?"

"It's safe, but very complicated."

Caleb could feel Joshua's unease and fear. "There is no one in the coven, no one in the Brotherhood, past or present, who is a better crafter than you. Not only do you have the knowledge and instincts to write a spell this complicated, you have the strength, ability and cunning to pull it off. There is no one I would trust in this situation more. Trust your intuition, trust your abilities." He stepped forward and got right up in Joshua's face. "I trust _you_."

Joshua blew out a breath and nodded. "Thank you." Waiting only a beat, he said, "Now, I've got to go over the spell once more, then practice with Ryker."

"You need Ryker?"

"This will be a two man show," Joshua said. Smiling, he started back down hallway to his room. "You're going to get quite the light show tonight."

Once Joshua had disappeared into his room, Caleb looked upward and murmured, "God? Castiel? Dad…? Please watch over Josh and Ryker tonight." Blowing out a pensive breath, he walked down the hall to the hotel stairwell, and raced up the stairs to his suite.

* * *

Elijah walked back to the SUV from his visit inside the small service station where he'd paid for their gas. Purposefully, Ethan hadn't filled their gas tank upon leaving Hastings Nebraska so they could fill it in Lebanon.

"Not much inside there," Elijah said, leaning into the passenger's side of the vehicle, casually watching Ethan clean the front window with an aged squeegee that looked more like it would fall apart than remove any dirt from the windshield. "We'll need to get some food in town."

Ethan glanced over his brother's shoulder to see three men inside, all standing at the window, watching them. Frowning, he let his hand drop in apparent confusion. The men turned and moved away. After a moment, he gave a shrug and finished off the front window. He aimed and tossed the squeegee toward the water bin and missed.

Elijah grinned. "Good aim, big brother." Shaking his head and grinning, he opened the passenger door.

Ethan flipped him off and moved lazily to pick up the squeegee.

"Manners," Elijah teased, climbing inside and slamming the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Ethan grumbled. Leaning over, he gripped the spell bag in his hand and slid it between the pumps as he picked up the wooden handle. Holding it aloft for his brother to see, he placed it elaborately in the water bin.

Laughing, Elijah shook his head. "Come on!" he shouted. "Let's get going. I'm starving!"

Ethan opened the door and climbed inside. "You're wish is my command." Starting the engine, he put the car in gear and pulled out of the station. As he did so, he saw a woman staring out the front window of her modest little rural home across the street. Frowning, he waved and she let the curtain dropped. "This place is weird," he commented. "Is there anywhere else we can get something to eat?"

Elijah, who was also frowning in the direction of the house, pulled out his cell. "Damn it, no Internet connection."

"Seriously?" Ethan exclaimed. "This is the twenty-first century. Everywhere has cell capability."

"Not here," Elijah stated. Sighing, he put his cell back in his pocket. "Let's just get something to eat and move on."

"Yeah," Ethan said, waiting for a truck to go past before he pulled back out onto US 281. "Okay, since we don't have an Internet connection, where is the market?"

"On Main Street," Elijah said. "Up … here, turn left on Grove."

Ethan made a slow left turn, driving just under the speed limit. "Seems pretty deserted."

"It's a small town," Elijah said, shrugging. They drove past two small streets. "Here; turn right."

Ethan did, and saw a woman standing on the corner. He waited for her to cross the street, and when she didn't move, he rolled down his window and called out, "Go ahead, Ma'am."

Giving him a glare, the woman stepped into the sidewalk and stomped across the street.

"You're welcome," Ethan muttered as he turned onto Main.

"Stop!"

Ethan pulled quickly to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks. "What the hell!?"

"A church!"

Ethan looked across the narrow street to the tiny brick church with red, orange and golden paned windows. "So?"

"I just want to go in a moment," Elijah said, creaking open his door.

Ethan frowned. "In there? How do you know it's open?"

"I'll check. I just … just let me check."

Sighing, Ethan nodded. "All right. Go on."

Looking both ways to check for the nonexistent traffic, Elijah jogged across the street. Ethan watched as he checked the door on the north side of the building, then went around and climbed the steps to the second door. Finding it locked as well, he leapt over the side of the stairs and almost tripped before disappearing around the back. Shaking his head, Ethan rolled his eyes. Then, with the instincts of a hunter and a cop, he felt the approach from behind, and the hairs along his neck and arms stood up. Thus when someone finally spoke, he gave a very convincing start of surprise.

"Is everything all right?"

Ethan jerked around to see a man staring in the open window of the passenger's door. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "You could have given me a heart attack!"

"My apologies," the man said. He was dressed in a somber suit, worn with age. A narrow tie fit around his neck and his hair was slicked back with gel.

"You the pastor?"

The man nodded.

"My brother…" Ethan waved a hand in the direction of the church. "Something we talked about earlier brought back the memory of a loved one who passed, and he wanted to take a moment to pay his respects."

The man looked concerned, and his eyes went to the building across the street just as Elijah trudged around the corner, his shoulders slumped. "Let me see if I can help." Quickly he crossed the street and approached Elijah. Ethan watched his brother listen to the pastor, his head hung low a bit. After a moment, the pastor bowed his head. The two men stood together until a minute later Elijah raised his head. Smiling, he said something and jogged slowly back across the street.

"All right," Elijah said, climbing back into the SUV. "Let's get something to eat."

"You good?"

"Yeah."

Giving a wave to the pastor, who had remained near his church, Ethan pulled the SUV back onto the street. They drove another couple of blocks, noticing that foot traffic had increased and there were more cars on the road as they drew closer to the center of town. Ethan pulled into a parking spot in front of Ladow's Market and both men climbed out of the SUV.

Nodding to a woman who was coming out of the store as he passed her by, Ethan ignored the small squeal she gave when she saw him. Standing inside, he felt as though his head was being squeezed slightly, like he had a bad head cold. Giving his head a shake, he glanced down some aisles until he saw cold medicine and aspirin.

"What are you doing?" Elijah asked.

"Feel like I'm getting a cold," Ethan stated, rubbing at his forehead. He picked up a bottle of sinus medicine, making sure his blocks were titanium, then said, "You want to pick up something here?"

"I'd rather go to the bathroom," Elijah said, looking toward the back of the store.

"All right, you use the bathroom and I'll see if we can get something hot." Ethan glanced around the store. "Nothing here is all that appealing." Turing, he walked up to the counter where a man with wiry gray hair was ringing up items for a young woman with black hair and tattered jeans. Waiting, he looked around in a bored fashion.

"Can I help you?"

Ethan turned back to see the man behind the counter watching him. "You got hot food in here?"

"Hot when you heat it up," the man replied dryly.

"Funny," Ethan remarked. Sighing, he looked around. He supposed they could get some lunch meat, bread, lettuce and mayo.

Elijah walked up the side aisle, frowning. "You don't have a bathroom?"

The man shook his head.

"Really?"

"We don't get many strangers in here. Most folks have a home."

Elijah glared. "Not helpful."

"You can go out back," the man stated.

"In an alley? Seriously?"

The man shrugged. "It's pretty secluded. Dogs and cats don't object."

Ethan laughed.

"Isn't there another gas station around here?" asked Elijah, walking to the front of the small store and glancing out the windows.

"Not with a working toilet."

Ethan eyed Elijah. "Might as well. Then we can get to Medford without stopping."

Elijah looked disgusted, but stomped out the front door anyway.

Giving the man behind the counter an eye roll, Ethan walked back to the aisles and began picking up bread, mayo and mustard, then went for the packaged meats, picking out turkey. He then grabbed a package of plastic utensils and a small pack of napkins. Moving to the large coolers, he sidestepped a man in overalls and opened the door, pulling out two bottles of water. As he was walking to the front counter, Elijah came back inside the store. Ethan set the things down and pulled his wallet from his pocket.

Elijah surveyed the food. "Nothing hot?"

"Not here," Ethan murmured, pulling cash from his wallet.

Elijah sighed and wandered away to stare out the front windows.

The man behind the counter eyed Elijah as he worked. Finally he said, "Twenty-one dollars and thirty-two cents."

Ethan handed over twenty-five dollars and waited for his change.

"There's a diner around the corner," the man said suddenly.

Ethan, shoving his change back in his pocket. "What?"

"A diner," the man said. He looked like he was sorry he'd mentioned it at all.

"Thanks," Ethan said, picking up the brown bag and walking to the door.

Outside, Elijah said, "You think there's any place to get something hot?"

"A diner around the corner." Ethan was feeling the stress of their task. The challenge of staying with their story, giving nothing away, and keeping his blocks in place was tasking. He wanted this done, but wanted it done right. Sighing, he said, "Let's check it out; see if they got something to go." He opened the door to the SUV and shoved the bag into the backseat. "Then we're getting out of dodge. I want to be in Medford before nightfall."

"Then let's hit it." Elijah climbed into the car. As they started down the road, he said, "Up here on the right."

Ethan turned the corner and immediately saw a small diner up ahead. It was practically the only place on the block with any cars parked outside. The place was squished wall to wall with the other buildings on that side. Turning to Elijah, he said, "I'm going to stretch my legs if you want to get us a couple of sandwiches."

Elijah nodded. Hopping from the car, he walked across the street and stepped inside.

It was just like a scene in one of those old western movies, where the protagonist steps into the saloon and everyone goes silent, all eyes turning to stare at the proverbial fly pinned in the doorway. Nodding once, Elijah walked over to a long counter and sat on the stool. No one approached him for a record length of time. Just as he was about to get to his feet again, a middle-aged woman walked up.

"What can I get you?" she asked brusquely.

Smiling, Elijah asked, "You do to-go orders?"

That the woman looked relieved was an understatement. "We have a few sandwich selections that we package up for to-go orders." She opened a menu and pointed to a short list of offerings. "Truckers go through here a lot, so we keep these on the menu."

"Excellent," Elijah said. He was reading through the offerings when he felt a tickle on his neck. Quickly, he jerked around to see an old man standing directly behind him. Leaning into the counter slightly to get a bit of space between them, he said, "You need something, Sir?"

"Leave this town," the man hissed.

Elijah's brows shot up. "Excuse me?"

The woman behind the counter said, "He's just getting some food to go, Mr. Arnold. He'll be leaving shortly."

Elijah glanced back at the woman and frowned. "It's illegal to stay in…" his eyes drifted around slightly, obviously looking for a name of the township before saying, "this town?"

"No, Sir," the girl said, a strained smile on her face. "That would be ridiculous, wouldn't it, Mr. Arnold?"

"You don't belong here," the man growled.

"And I don't plan on living here," Elijah stated. "As the waitress said, I'm just picking up some sandwiches."

"Leave, while you can."

Elijah stood. "What is your problem?"

"You think you can remain hidden from the Watcher? You think you can drive through here and watch our town?"

Looking confused, Elijah sputtered, "Your sandwiches are a secret?"

"No, they're not," said the woman behind the counter. She had scurried into the kitchen while Elijah and the man called Mr. Arnold were speaking, and now returned with two wrapped sandwiches. Handing them across the counter, she said, "I apologize for Mr. Arnold. These are on the house."

Frowning, Elijah shook his head. "No, I couldn't possibly…"

"Please," the woman said, her voice rising slightly in panic.

Elijah glanced at the belligerent man, then back at the waitress. Finally he nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality..." Walking quickly, he was out the door and across the street just as Ethan was getting back to the car after his walk. "Let's go."

Ethan's brows rose, but he immediately climbed into the cab. Starting the engine, he glanced over his shoulder and saw two men and three women standing on the sidewalk outside the café. Surprise had his jaw dropping. "What happened?"

"Let's go," Elijah said again, feeling that same tickle on his neck.

There was no traffic on the road, so Ethan pulled out onto Main Street and started down the road. All along the sidewalks, people stood there staring at them as they passed. Leaning forward, he goggled through the front window. "It's like a John Carpenter film," he muttered.

"Turn here," Elijah said.

Ethan didn't ask again, just turned right onto South Railway Avenue. There were more people standing on the corner. He wanted to stop and ask what was up, but decided against it. When they got to US 281, he turned south and they went three miles before he slowed. He looked over at his brother, whose face was a pale, wan white. Their eyes met.

Elijah nodded. Closing his eyes, he swallowed several times, allowing saliva to pool into his mouth.

Ethan slowed down and parked on the side of the road. Elijah jumped from the SUV, a hand to his stomach and raced for the sparse tree line. When he got there, he dropped to his knees and threw up. As he did, he slid one of the last two spell pouches from his pocket and placed it on the ground under a scrub brush bush. Finally he wiped his mouth and got to his feet. He could still feel that tickle on his neck as he stumbled back to the SUV and climbed inside.

"Let's get away from here," Elijah demanded.

Ethan put his foot down on the gas and sped away, trying to put as much quick distance between them and the town of Lebanon as possible. Following Elijah's gold star performance in regaling his brother with the details of the _crazy people inhabiting the town_, neither spoke again for at least thirty minutes. It was more than forty-five before they relaxed. An hour before Ethan felt like he could breathe again. A quick glance at his brother told him the other man was still feeling the strain of their encounter with Lebanon. Hell, he was too. A short time later he saw a Pilot service station right off the highway. Flipping on his blinker, he took the off ramp and pulled into the parking lot.

Elijah climbed from the car, his throat raw and his nerves stretched tight. Hands on his hips, he paced around the SUV, breathing deeply and trying to calm his nerves. Rarely had he or Ethan done something so constrained and nerve-wracking as going through Lebanon. Ethan gave his brother a pat on the back and jogged into the service store. He returned ten minutes later with two large cups of coffee, two bottles of water and a can of ginger ale. "Here," he said, handing the ginger ale to his brother.

Elijah took the can and popped the tab. Taking a couple of sips, he nodded his thanks. "We far enough?" he asked obliquely.

Ethan stretched his shoulders and back, keeping his mind blank as he used his instincts to measure whether the tension he was feeling was from stress or a spell. Walking to the SUV, he glanced in at the odometer: they were seventy-two miles outside of Lebanon. It was further south than they had planned on going before turning east. But tension, unease and anxiety had worked on their nerves and pushed them southward. But seventy-two miles was well outside the spell circle Joshua had predicted. If they weren't safe now, then neither were the others. Turning to his brother, he pulled back his shirt, showing the entwined protection pouches around his neck.

Elijah mimicked his action, showing the protections still wound around his neck.

Nodding, Ethan leaned into the SUV and said, "We're as safe as we're ever going to be."

Elijah nodded and asked the question he'd been forcing out of his mind for the last hour. "The man inside the diner said something about a Watcher. Who's the Watcher?"

"Haven't the vaguest. But that was like _Deliverance_ or something," Ethan said with a shiver. "Never felt anything like it."

"It felt like the spells were crawling across my skin."

Ethan gave another shiver, knowing exactly what his brother was talking about. "Could you tell if anyone was lying or what they were lying about?"

Thinking back, Elijah said, "The pastor was afraid for his congregation. Several are missing. He's met Piruz and doesn't like him, but he isn't going to make waves. He's too afraid for his church members."

Ethan nodded. "You didn't talk to the market owner much. Did you get anything from him?"

"No. He's irascible, wanted us out of the way, but I couldn't get anything else. But in the diner; the woman behind the counter was scared. She was hiding something, but it wasn't about the town. She's afraid for her family. Her daughter is being held." He thought back again. "It was the man who broadcast the loudest. Someone is pulling his strings. It's like he's under a spell and someone was talking through him."

"Could you tell who?"

"It was a woman, that much I got," Elijah said, his eyes slightly unfocused in memory. "He knows her. She was working a spell nearby. I figure the Community Center next door, but I couldn't see who she was or sense whether she was under a spell as well."

"Could she have been the coven leader?"

"Maybe. Did Joshua or Adam say whether the coven leader was a woman or not?"

Ethan frowned. "If they did, I don't remember." Straightening, he said, "We're further south than our plan. Get on your cell, see if you can find a route east where we can pick up Interstates 35 or 135 North."

"And you?" Elijah sighed, pulling his cell from his pocket.

"I'm calling Caleb."

* * *

She sat in the small room at the Lebanon community center, eyes closed, hands moving slowly over a pewter bowl. Something had been off about the strangers in town today, but she hadn't sensed anything unusual. It was instinct that heralded the warning, not magic. She had one of her people confront one of the men in the diner, hoping to learn something. But the man's reaction was genuine and surprised. He'd even been spooked by the encounter, as heralded by he and his brother's quick exit from town. Following their departure from Lebanon, she had scanned the entire township and its surrounding lands, but had come up with no magical interference or influences. They were as they appeared to be: two men heading to Medford.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," the woman replied. "They are as they appear."

The man standing beside her bowed. "Then I will check on the others, make sure they are still watching the roads coming in and out of town."

"Have everyone on their guard. He is back. The time draws near."

The man closed his eyes in deference and nodded. Turning, he left the meeting room and walked down the shabby hallway. Paint was warped and peeling, the carpet on the floor shabby and worn in spots. Though he knew the Community Center was less than forty years old, it looked and felt as old as the town, which had been established in its current location in 1888.

Stopping in the small lobby, he wiped the sweat from his brow with nervous fingers. Moving to the door, he stared outside into the street, his pitch black hair, wide cheekbones and strong jaw reflected in the glass. Raising a hand, he touched an intricate cartouche at his neck, woven with gold, quartz and black tourmaline, and gave thanks to his great, great, great grandfather for all his wisdom, skill and protection. He hadn't been able to protect his people, hadn't been able to protect the town. Maybe the two strangers could.

"Le máako' k protégé," he murmured, and walked out the double doors into the sunlight. _(May the Lord protect us.)_

**.**

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 25

.

Onida sat with her eyes closed and focused her energy into pulling minerals in her direction. Adam was seated at her side, his hand over a porcelain bowl, murmuring under his breath. Slowly, a lid glued to a box across the room shifted.

Writing a spell to call the seeds from secured boxes spread across the entire country had not been an easy feat. Yet after several tries, Adam thought he had created one that would pull at the mineral compound of the seeds and bring them to where they were using Onida's natural energy abilities. After securing his and Ryker's room with protection spells and sigils to protect the hotel patrons against the influence of the seeds, he and Onida were trying out the spell.

"Good," Adam murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Not … now," Onida grunted, her face screwed up in concentration. Doubling her energy output, she focused on using the ruby-reddish heat of attraction pooling inside her body to pull the minerals to her. Suddenly the box lid flew off, and the protection circle behind which she and Adam were seated was pelted with seeds. "Oh!" she yelped, startled.

Adam smiled and opened his eyes. "Well done."

"Yeah, sure," Onida muttered, standing and stretching. "That was across a room. We need to make sealed boxes protected by magic all across the country open up and come here." Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't know how we're going to do that."

"It's not the distance," Adam stated. "It's the magic."

Onida rolled her eyes. She was pretty tired of hearing that.

Adam covered a smile and continued. "Getting the right combination of crafter magic and earth magic to open a box and pull the seeds to us was the key. Now that we have the right combination of magics, we merely strengthen the spell."

"So, we just enhance what we did, and it'll work on further distances?"

"It's the right combination," Adam said again. Leaning over, he pulled some ingredients in his direction and a new porcelain bowl.

Onida looked at the seeds littering the floor of the hotel room. "How are we going to put those back in the box without touching them?"

"Just focus on the minerals and send them back to the box," Adam suggested, his eyes on his ingredients.

"I'm not a magician, here," Onida declared. "I can't do that!"

Adam looked up at the frustration he could hear in Onida's voice. She had more control and power than she was giving herself credit for. She just needed to learn that she could use that power in a new and different way. "When you strengthened the walls of the confinement for the witches, you didn't go into the forest to strength the increments. You did that through a portal, correct?"

"Yes."

"Inside the medicine bags were minerals and ingredients that you used to strengthen a very real spell boundary that kept the witches inside. With this spell, you are going the same thing, only instead of sending the minerals and magnetics around a forest, you're calling the magnetics and minerals here."

Heaving out a sigh, Onida reached out, picked up a sandwich and bit it. When she was Yaotlapializtli of the Yakama people, she had monitored the boundary of an entire forest, using her energy and her ability to manipulate magnetics and minerals to keep the spell barrier intact in order to prevent the Tah-tah-kle'-ah from escaping. That seemed like a lifetime ago. However, monitoring and shoring up the boundary surrounding a forest was one thing, using that same power to cross the breadth and width of an entire country was something else. She didn't know if she had enough energy to pull seeds to her from around the country. Swallowing, she confessed, "I can't do this."

Adam frowned.

Onida placed her sandwich down onto the small table and sat down opposite the crafter. "I don't have enough energy to reach across the entire continent."

"You don't have to have that much energy," Adam repeated. "I'm using magic to increase the effectiveness of your energy output. It was a matter of finding the right formula for maximum results." He waved his hand over the bowl he'd been using. "We now have the right formula."

Onida stared at the porcelain bowl and what Adam had been saying finally clicked. "So, you're using magic to make my manipulation of magnetics go further."

Adam nodded.

Eyeing the mix of ingredients lying across the table, Onida reached over and picked back up her sandwich. "You're going to need a whole lot more ingredients than this to cover the country."

"We'll need a few more, yes," Adam concurred. "However, the most important thing to remember, is that we can do this." He picked up a plastic container with a white powder inside. Scooping a measured tablespoon full, he poured it into the porcelain bowl.

Onida looked around the room, at the protection circle and sigils Adam had drawn there to protect the patrons of the hotel against the power of the seeds. "If this works, those seeds will be flying across the country."

Adam nodded.

"What about all the people? Won't they be affected by the power of the seeds?"

Adam put down his measuring spoon and leaned back in his chair, giving her question serious contemplation. "In truth, I don't know," he admitted. "If the spell works as planned, the seeds should fly by so fast they shouldn't affect people. They won't even be exposed to it for a second. And if Piruz succeeds in releasing the Chaos Spell, I don't believe the seeds will be of any notice."

It was a sobering thought; that the country might be in chaos in a few hours.

Giving Onida a smile that he hoped was comforting, Adam said, "How about returning the seeds to its box so we can leave the room."

Onida sighed and focused on the seeds and the mineral deposits inside. Instead of viewing them as individual pips, she tried to focus on them as a mineral substance that needed to fill in a hole or a gap, like she had done with the gaps and tears in the forest spell boundaries. Only this time, that "gap" was the inside of a box. Closing her eyes, she thought of filling in the hole. It wasn't until she heard Adam say _Well, done_, that she opened her eyes. The floor was clean. The seeds were back in the box and the lid was on. She looked over at Adam, elated. It was a success, one that was welcome.

Standing, Adam held up a box he had sealed with his own magic, one with generic orange seeds inside, and wiggled it in the air. "Want to give it another try, this time with the sealed box of seeds on the outside of the hotel."

Onida gave a snort of laughter. "You want seeds to fly through the hotel and into our room?"

A hint of mischief flashed across Adam's normally stoic face. "Think anyone will notice?"

Grinning, Onida said, "Let's see whether they do."

* * *

The lone suite at the Holiday Inn Express was crowded with people. Around the main table sat JT, James, Max, Daniel and Joel, all making spell pouches. The younger three worked on the exploding pouches, the older two putting together the defensive spells. The remnants of lunch littered the kitchen, with only a couple of sandwiches and water bottles remaining. Sam and Dean sat opposite one another at a smaller table closer to the suite's sitting room, Sam picking at his sandwich, Dean pushing his partially eaten burger around the plate. All eyes went to the door when it opened and Caleb walked through.

"Ethan checked in." Caleb went to the table and dropped into a seat near Dean. "They're through Lebanon and at a Pilot station about seventy miles south. They'll be heading east as soon as they stretch their legs a bit."

There were a few _whoops_ and Dean as well as Sam sighed in relief. The brother's had been almost an hour overdue for their check in, and everyone had been on edge. The sense of ease now permeating the room was palpable.

"The mission?" Sam asked, setting his sandwich down on his plate.

"They were able to place all six bags," Caleb relayed triumphantly. "One at the US 281/Hwy 191 intersection, another at the Midway Co-Op station going into town; three others at the local church, the market, and Ethan ditched one behind the Community Center, the last heading out of town."

"Great!" James exclaimed softly.

"Well done," Dean agreed.

"In getting out of dodge, they went a little further south than they'd originally intended, and that's why they didn't get in touch sooner. But they're on their way east and will hook up to Interstate 135 north." Caleb took a bite of his sandwich.

"Why don't they just hole up an hour due east of Lebanon," Sam said. "That way they don't have to come all the way back here just to turn around and head back."

Caleb nodded slowly. "Onida can take the SUV, meet up with them." Rising, he walked into the small kitchenette as he typed out a text as he relayed the information to Ethan and Elijah.

Dean pushed away his half eaten meal for good.

"You need to eat," Sam said softly.

"Pot, kettle," Dean replied with a smile.

Not to be deterred, Sam repeated, "You still need to eat."

"I'll eat after I go back into the circle," Dean promised in a barely audible undertone. "I just don't want too much in much in my stomach."

"You're going to be fine," Sam said, "Especially with Joshua's new protection pouch."

Dean nodded, his eyes on JT and James, who were working at the table across the room. After a moment, he said, "Only you, me, Caleb and Josh, all right? No one else."

"They're going to be worried," Sam said.

"Only if we tell them."

"JT knows. We talked."

"But he doesn't have to see."

"What if he needs to do something like this someday?"

Dean gave his brother an incredulous look. "You think he's going to have to deal with the seeds of the Tree of Good and Evil?"

"The Tree of the _Knowledge_ of Good and Evil," Sam corrected with a smile. "And if we can't take out Piruz tonight, then maybe."

"We'll finish him," Dean vowed. "We have to."

Caleb walked back over carrying his cell phone, a bottle of water and a plate piled with chips and a turkey sandwich half. Once he'd dropped down in his former seat, he said, "They're going to hole up at a small notel-motel near Jewel Kansas. It's just outside a half hour mark from Lebanon. They should be able to catch a couple hours sleep, then be in place at eight-forty-five."

Dean pulled the satellite map of Lebanon closer and scanned the area. Streets, houses and buildings were all pictured from above. "Onida can meet up with them here," he pointed to a large, barn-like building east of the town. "It's right on 145 Road."

Caleb scanned the map, plotting Onida's route. "Yeah, all right."

Dean watched his old friend and knew Caleb wasn't comfortable with Onida being away from his side on a hunt. He completely understood, and there wasn't one damn thing he could say to ease his friend's worries.

There was a knock at the door, and James scrambled to his feet to answer it. Joshua walked in with a smile for the younger man.

"Dean?" he said quietly. "I could use your help."

JT's eyes went from the Advisor to his father.

Dean rose, trying to look nonchalant. "Sure." Glancing over to the group at the larger table strewn with herbs, minerals and other ingredients, he said, "I'll be right back to help with those pouches."

James, picking up on his brother's unease, merely watched his father walk to the door. Then, as though he couldn't help himself, he called, "Dad?"

Dean turned and smiled. Forcing comfort and ease into his voice, he said, "I'll be right back, kiddo."

Sam rose and, along with Caleb, they both followed Dean into the hall.

Dean smirked at his Triad, saying, "That wasn't conspicuous at all, was it?"

"Don't care," Caleb shrugged, rubbing a crumb from the side of his mouth with his thumb.

"Me either."

Dean rolled his eyes.

Joshua smiled as they got onto the elevator. Pushing the button for the floor two levels down, he said, "We should be able to do this fairly quickly. I've put the four spell bags I'll need on the table already. All you need to do is open the box and remove two seeds per bag and put them in the spell pouches. Then you're out of there."

Dean nodded. Strangely enough, while there was a knot of anxiety inside, it was held at bay by an overall calm. If Eden was helping them return what belong to it, then they would be fine.

When they stepped inside Joshua's room, Ryker was putting the finishing touches on the protection circle. Looking up, he nodded to the Triad. To Joshua, he said, "All you'll need to do is close the circle once Dean's inside."

"Thank you," Joshua said. "Now, I would appreciate it if you could check in with Onida and your father, see how they're progressing with their side of this operation."

"Will do," Ryker said. Placing the remnants of the ingredients he'd used onto the bed, he picked up a key card and left the room.

Joshua went over to the small table squished at the base of the two double beds, and checked the neat protection circle narrowly encircling it and the lopsided chair. Atop the table sat four, good-sized stiff silk bags. Turning, he gave Dean a reassuring nod.

After a deep breath, Dean walked into the circle and sat down at the small table. Looking around at the tight quarters, he said, "Kinda cramped in here, isn't it?"

Joshua smiled. "You won't be in there long." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pouch that was somewhat larger than the protection pouches the Triad had worn before. "Here, wear this. I made it quite a bit stronger than prior protection pouches. And you have your Triad protection?"

Dean hung the new protection bag around his neck while pulling the neck of his shirt a bit wider to show a thin titanium chain. Years before he, Caleb and Sam had been caught inside a Triad trap set for them by a demon. They'd been able to gain their freedom, but to prevent another such incident, Joshua had created a powerful talisman to protect them against further traps.

"Good. The double protections should make it easier to endure the chaos surrounding the seeds." While the Triad talisman didn't appear to have helped during Dean's first encounter with the seeds, Joshua hoped its connection to Caleb and Sam's talismans had enabled him to focus on his Triad when the pain became too great. Now, he was counting on that talisman-connection along with the enhanced protection pouch to protect him more thoroughly this time around.

"Let's get this done," Dean said.

Joshua reached for his wand and murmured an enchantment under his breath, closing the circle.

Dean again felt the heat rise and a stifling sense of claustrophobia within the circle. He'd just gotten inside and already wanted out. Sighing, he looked over at Caleb and Sam, gave them a nod. Then he pulled out his knife and started to pry the lid from the wooden box. He felt the shift when the lid loosened and repositioned his knife to pry up the lid. Once the lid was loose, he put it aside and looked down into the box. Yup, the crazy-making seeds were still there. Without waiting even a moment, he picked up Joshua's tweezers and pulled one seed out of the box and dropped it into the first spell pouch. A second quickly followed the first. "That's one down," he said.

"Good job," Joshua murmured.

Dipping his tweezers into the box again, Dean felt a buzzing in his ears. Frowning, he waved a hand past his ear and pulled another seed from the box.

"You good?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Yeah…" Dean went in and took a fourth seed and dropped it into the second bag.

_You're such a good boy… _cooed a deep, silky voice in his head. Alistair.

"Shut up," Dean muttered, taking a fifth seed from the box.

Caleb sat on the edge of the bed across from Dean and said, "You're over half way done."

"Yeah, I know," Dean barked, dropping the seed into the third bag. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Sorry, the buzzing is distracting."

Joshua frowned. "Buzzing?"

Dean nodded as he retrieved his sixth seed and dropped it into the third bag. "Really annoying. And it's really hot in here." He went in to get his seventh seed. "Am I supposed to close these bags too?"

"Yes," Joshua said, watching the seventh seed going into the last spell bag. "I'll lead you through it when you're done."

"'kay," Dean murmured. It was when he held the tweezers over the box for the last time that his hand began to shake.

"Steady," Caleb murmured.

Dean glanced over and nodded. Getting a firm grasp on the last seed, he dropped it into the fourth bag and shoved the lid back on the box. Of course, eight seeds were still outside the box, and the buzzing in his head was beginning to seriously affect his motor skills. His neck was tighter than a drum, his arms and hands were trembling, and one leg was bobbing up and down in an agitated fashion.

"Dean!"

Dean looked up and realized that Joshua was leaning forward, worry on his face, and he figured that hadn't been the first time he had said Dean's name. "Sorry," he said, giving his head a shake. "What's next?"

Joshua wanted to ask whether Dean was all right, wanted to know how he was doing. Both Caleb and Sam looked concerned, but he decided to get the job over with instead. "See the small bottle at the corner of the table?"

Dean frowned and looked around. In the corner stood a small, glass bottle, one he hadn't noticed before. It felt light and fragile; he hoped he didn't break it.

"I want you to take the stopper out, and put one drop into each bag before pulling closed the drawstrings."

"And just pulling closed a drawstring seals the bags?" Sam whispered.

"A temporary closing," Joshua murmured. "I'll seal the bags fully when the protection seal is broken." He handed two more pouches to Sam and Caleb. "You'll need to put these on when I break the seal."

"So the potion bags won't be fully closed," Caleb said.

"Yes, they'll be fully closed temporarily," Joshua stressed. "If I don't finish the closing, they'll reopen. But that won't happen," he assured the pair. "As soon as Dean finishes, I'll break the seal and complete the closing."

"Hey!" Dean called, holding the small bottle in his shaking hand. "Guy in the stupid circle needs help." When he had the others' attention, he held up the small bottle. "I can't get this open. Can I use my knife?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Joshua said. "Just jiggle the stopper from side to side. It should come out."

Sighing, Dean put down his knife. Grimacing slightly, he tried to steady his hands as he wiggled the cork stopped from side to side. "S'not working," he muttered.

"It is," Joshua said calmly, his eyes on the small stopper. "See how it's coming up?"

"Oh, okay."

"You're going to be out of there soon," Sam promised.

Sighing, Dean worked at the stopper. Couldn't Joshua have just set the bottle on the table without the stopper? Cause, seriously, stoppers shouldn't be this much work.

"Be careful," Joshua warned as the stopper moved toward the top. He didn't want Dean to pull it off with such force that the liquid spilled.

"I … got it," Dean grunted. When he finally got the stopper from the bottle, he needed to rest a bit. The buzzing was now very difficult to ignore.

"You're almost done," Caleb said, sliding off the bed and onto his knees. Through his and Dean's psychic connection, he could hear the buzzing too, and it was incredibly distracting. "Just one drop in each of the pouches."

Dean blinked at Caleb. "Yeah," he murmured. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his hand as he held the small bottle over the first pouch.

"Careful…" murmured Joshua.

Slowly Dean tipped the bottle over the first pouch. Tilting gradually, he felt like he would explode any second until a small golden drop fell into the pouch. Instantly all the tension whooshed out of his body as he sat back in the chair.

"Watch the bottle," Joshua warned. Dean's hands had fallen into his lap and the bottle was tilting dangerously.

"Can he put the drops in all the bags before he closes them?" Sam asked, his eyes on his brother, whose eyes were closed.

"Yes," Joshua nodded. "Dean, it's time for the second pouch."

_Pick up that knife and do that again, boy._

Grimacing, Dean forced the flaming image that had flitted into his mind into a strong box and slammed the lid. Then he sat up again, forced his mind to clear and his hands to steady, and focused on the second pouch. Holding the jar over the pouch, he let one drop fall and moved immediately on to the third pouch. After one drop, he went to the fourth and finished. By now, sweat was dripping from his forehead, but he didn't feel like his limbs were as out of control.

"Put the stopper back in the bottle," Joshua said.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly, and reached for the stopper. It was difficult getting the stopper aligned with the small opening of the bottle, but he finally got the little cork into the stem and set the jar aside.

"Good job," Sam said, smiling.

Closing his eyes again, Dean leaned back in the chair.

"One more task," Joshua said.

"Yeah," Dean breathed. "Just give me a second." His arms felt tired, and that worried him. If being in the protection circle wearing a protection pouch didn't fully protect him, how could they be expected to fight near the Tree after Piruz set off the Chaos Spell? They would be nearly completely incapacitated. Touching the pouch at his neck, he opened his eyes and said, "I don't think this pouch is going to work."

"Why?" Joshua asked.

"Because I'm not one hundred percent me," Dean stated. "I keep hearing this buzzing, and it's affecting my motor skills and coordination. We can't fight if we can't control our bodies."

"Why don't you close the pouches, and we can talk about it," Joshua said, pointing to the spell bags.

Sighing, Dean mumbled, "Yeah." He had the strings drawn on all four potion bags in short order and looked up expectantly at Joshua.

"Here we go," Joshua said. Wand in hand, he smudge out the protection line and quickly touched each of the bags while murmuring an incantation.

Breathing deeply, Dean relished the clean, fresh cool air as it swept inside the protection circle.

"You all right?" Sam asked, hurrying around Joshua to reach his brother's side.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered, continuing to take deeps breaths. "It just gets hard to breathe in there."

"You did better this time," Caleb said with a smile, nodding his head to the knife sitting innocently on the table.

Dean snorted in derision. "Yeah, right."

"You did," Joshua agreed. "You didn't lose yourself, you didn't injure yourself. You accomplished the task before you in record time and got out." Smiling at the dumbfounded Guardian, he finished by saying, "Well done."

"You did great, Dean." Sam smiled. "Being closed up in that tiny circle would have had me climbing the walls."

Frowning, Dean rose and tottered slightly to the left, right into Caleb, who steadied him. Smiling, he nodded his thanks. Moving about the room, he began to feel better. Maybe being cooped up inside the protection circle did have a debilitating effect after all.

Once he'd completed his task of completely sealing the spell bags, Joshua turned to Dean. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that the circle is open and I'm walking around," Dean said.

"Tell me about inside the circle," Joshua said.

Dean told him everything he felt inside the circle and when it started. He tried to be as accurate as possible, knowing the information he gave might help save their lives in battle.

"So the main distraction was the buzzing," Joshua said, frowning.

"It began to affect my muscles and limbs. I felt like I couldn't hold anything steady."

"And you heard Alastair again," Caleb mentioned.

Dean turned to stare at his friend.

Caleb pointed to his own head. "I heard him."

Flushing, Dean nodded. "Yes, I heard him again. But it wasn't the same as last time. It was less like he was whispering in my ear and more like … an echo, I guess."

"Then that's better," Sam said.

"Yeah, I suppose," Dean agreed reluctantly. Hearing Alastair at all wasn't fun, even if it was in echo form. His eyes met Caleb's, and he knew his best friend understood.

Head down, Joshua was writing some notes as he said, "Okay, why don't you all take those pouches off. I'm going to add another couple of ingredients before tonight. Hopefully the additions will stabilize the mix and the buzzing will stop."

"That would be good," Dean said, lifting the pouch from around his neck and setting it on the table. Eyeing Joshua, he wanted to ask about the spell to send the Tree back to Eden. While he didn't want to appear to doubt his Advisor, as Guardian, he needed to know how the spell was progressing. "How's the spell coming?"

"Well," Joshua said with a smile. "Of course, the results will be in the successful conclusion. It's not like I can test it before hand."

Sam looked curious. "Could you? I mean, could you practice it and maybe send it on its way?"

"Considering I'd have to be at the Tree to work the spell," Joshua said, "That would be no."

"To bad," Caleb remarked. "Would have saved us all that fighting."

"What about trying the spell on the seeds," Sam suggested. "See if the seeds we have here will go back."

Joshua had considered that, but these seeds were from the Tree Piruz was holding hostage, not the original Tree in Eden. He had a feeling Piruz had to have worked quick and hard to get any part of the Tree from Eden. Therefore, it was likely the seeds here were from this Tree. If the pull of the seeds to the Tree was so great that Piruz needed to bind the seeds in a cocobolo wood box with his own magic, then it was likely the seeds would return to the Tree in Lebanon rather than the Tree in Eden. If they did return here, they would need to go past Piruz, and he would know what they were doing.

Dean, seeing the frowning consideration on Joshua's face, said, "I think we should go with your original plan."

Joshua looked up.

"You have confidence the plan will work," Dean shrugged. "I have confidence you can do the spell, Pastor Jim knew it too."

Joshua nodded slowly. "There are complications in using the spell on only one box of seeds. I think it would be better to do the spell at the proper time."

Caleb rose. "Do you have enough time to finish the Tree spell and add additions to our spell pouches?"

"It shouldn't be a problem," Joshua said with a smile.

"Speaking of spell pouches," Sam said. "Shouldn't we be upstairs helping with those? I have a feeling we're going to be using several tonight."

Caleb opened the door and stepped out first into the hallway followed by Sam.

Dean turned to Joshua just before he walked out and said, "Thank you. I know I gave you a very difficult task, and I know how hard you've been working on creating the spell _and_ protecting us. I wanted you to know I realize how hard, and it's appreciated." Nodding, he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Joshua found himself staring at the door and smiling. It wasn't like Dean had never thanked him before, he most definitely had. But this time, it made the workload still ahead of him feel lighter. Shaking his head, he went back to the table and started reworking the spells for the protection pouches.

* * *

Piruz lifted a hand and blew spell dust across his map in the waning daylight. He felt rested and strong, ready to conclude the Chaos Spell that would send this land into chaos. The path of the sun told him he had a few hours left, and he planned to use them well. Staring at the map, he let out a frustrated breath. Merlin's children were still not visible to his eye, and he _knew_ they were here. He had sensed them in the air, had sent magic to disrupt their journey. Slowly he tipped the potion dust into the bin to be emptied and sat down. There were only two options for his not being able to find them. One, his magic had interfered so much with their flying machine, that it went down and they were either dead or wounded. Two, their wizard was much stronger than he anticipated and had been very successful in shielding their whereabouts. Rolling up the map, he contemplated the two choices. If they were dead, he would have an easy time concluding the spell tonight. Somehow, ease and his plan had never been a pairing. Therefore, he would move forward on the premise that they were being protected by their very clever wizard. He had heard a saying recently and had enjoyed its irony very much: Plan for the worst; hope for the best. Yes, that is what he would do.

Standing, Piruz put the rolled amp back in his bag and gathered his possessions. Once he was outside, he placed the items in his car and climbed in. The windows still needed replacing, but he wouldn't feel the cold tonight. Smiling, he sped away from the public home toward the Tree. He could feel the Tree wanting to be free, wanting to be back in Eden. But it could not leave. His will would be done here on earth, as the God-With-No-Name had done. And he would succeed in eradicating the evil and the wicked and save the good. And those remaining would revere him, serve him and worship him.

Driving into Lebanon, he stopped beside the shabby Community Center and went inside. A small woman with wrinkled skin and white hair sat before a bowl, her hand moving over the surface. "Quid invenisti?" _(What have you detected?)_

"Nihil." _(Nothing)_ The woman's voice was a frail, thin testament to her exhaustion. Fumbling a few moments, she finally said, "Multi itinerantur a." _(Many pass by.)_ Hesitating again, she finally said, "Two came through, but left quickly."

Translating the last in his head, Piruz felt some alarm. "Duo populi sunt in oppidum constitit?" _(Two people stopped in town?)_

The woman nodded. "They bought food at the market, and sandwiches at the diner."

Piruz frowned. He had understood what the old woman had said fairly well. Though he understood Latin better, English was becoming somewhat more familiar. The two people entered the town and apparently purchased food at the market. "Utrum manere diu?" _(Did they stay long?)_

The woman shook her head. "No."

Nodding thoughtfully, Piruz moved slowly to the door leading to the dingy hallway. The spell he had placed around the town had been very successful in diverting travelers interested in the geographical center of the forty-eight states, or those who drove the very large trucks for a living, away from Lebanon. The less sensitive who _had_ driven in hadn't stayed long the belly of the spell. They did their business and left. It sounded like these two… Turning back to the woman, he asked, "Sive masculum sive feminam?" _(Were they male or female?)_

"Masculum."

That could mean the two warriors of Merlin had lived, and come to inspect Lebanon. This was his first indication that they may have survived the journey here. Smiling, he nodded. Tonight would have been easier had they perished. Yet it would be satisfying to triumph over Merlin's remaining warriors. "Te enim vidi magicae?" _(Did you see magic?)_

"No," the old woman replied.

"Vigilia," _(Keep watch)_ Piruz ordered. In the hall, he walked further into the building and stopped at a second door. Pushing it open, he eyed the old man seated inside, hands hovering over a deep, wide porcelain bowl. "Quidquid?" _(Anything?)_

The old man shook his head, his blank eyes staring at nothing; his attention only on the bowl.

Piruz shut the door and moved another two doors down on the left, pushing it open. Inside a young woman was seated on the floor, her hands hovering over a silver urn that smoked lightly, filing the air with a sweet, spicy scent. "Quidquid?" When the girl tilted her head to the side and didn't answer immediately, he stepped inside. "Dice mihi." _(Tell me.)_

The girl frowned a moment, then said slowly, "Duo homines." Stopping, she gave a low growl of frustration.

"Do … not … worry," Piruz said slowly. "Merely tell."

The girl relaxed. "The two men. They were walls; no stray thoughts or colors."

Piruz frowned. "You not … see … auras?"

"Dark gray; low frequency. No projection."

Piruz felt frustration rise up in himself as well. He didn't understand exactly what this energy protector witch was saying. He didn't know the last word she had used, nor were the meanings of the others clear. What he deduced was that the auras on the two men were dark. It could mean they were hiding something.

"Could … find once more?"

The girl smiled and nodded.

"Bonum opus," _(good work)_ he murmured. Rising, he retreated back into the hallway to the lobby. Elation filled his spirit. This was confirmation that the two warriors had survived the flying machine trip. Grinning, he stepped from the building. Outside several people were standing on the sidewalk, awaiting his instructions. A young man with russet colored hair, a sparse mustache and a bulky build walked up. "Separate people in group," he said slowly. "Watch paths to Lebanon. Stop the unwanted."

The man nodded and turned to the crowed. "Listen, everybody! You've all been divided into your groups. Here are your assignments for tonight: Group One, you'll be at the park. The Leader will give you instructions there. Group Two, you're at the northern entrance to Lebanon. Group Three, the east is yours; Four, you'll patrol the west; and Group Five, the south. Group Six, you'll patrol the city center near Ladow's. The most powerful coven members will be here, at the Community Center monitoring the entire town and the park. Keep your radios handy. If we detect penetration in your area we will let you know." Turning, the man looked at Piruz, awaiting his instruction.

The ancient wizard nodded. He understood much of what had been said, though it would have taken much longer for him to communicate those instructions in the very difficult English language. Turning to the crowd, he said, "Manere vigilemus." _(Remain alert.)_ Then he lifted his arms. Those in the crowd bowed their heads, and Piruz smiled. Yes, this would be his future after this night. No more hiding in the shadows, no more flitting between worlds. He would be honored and remembered as the one who eliminated evil from the world. Quickly he began murmuring the incantation that would keep the minds of these minions under his control. One arm still lifted, he reached down with his other, slipped his hand into his pocket and palmed some powder. Raising it again, he opened his hand and let the potion drift out across the crowd, murmuring incantations all the while. When he had completed his spell, he shouted, "Go!"

As the crowd dispersed, the russet-haired man continued to direct the groups. Piruz walked to his car and got inside. He had no worries that his will would not be followed. His magic was strong. It was time to get to the Tree. Smiling, he set off down the street, unconcerned about the people who fled from the vehicle's path.

The black-haired man stepped out from around the Community Center building, eyes on the departing car, fingers on his cartouche. This would need to end soon, or all he loved would be gone.

"Cadmael!"

The man turned to the russet-haired man and nodded. "Yes, Oliver. I am coming." He walked up to his old friend, whose eyes were slightly unfocused.

"I would like you to join the group patrolling the center of Lebanon. The Community Center must be protected at all costs."

Hand at his waist, Cadmael unfurled his fingers lightly in the air, mumbling, "Ta'ak in." _(Heed me)_ Then he asked, "Did you say the town center, or the north west-end near the park?"

Oliver's eyes fluttered for a moment, then he said, "The north-west end, near the park?"

Cadmael nodded. "Then where will you be, my friend?"

"Protecting the Community Center."

"Excellent," Cadmael said. "The center could not be in better hands."

Oliver smiled. "Thank you, Cadmael. I'll go finish with the preparations."

Cadmael watched as Oliver turned and walked down the street, calling out orders and confirming to questioners which group they needed to join. He thought back to the two men he'd seen earlier today. One was a truth teller, he could tell. They knew exactly what was happening. Tonight, they would come and help end this nightmare. He had been fighting this wizard's magic for an entire month already, carefully undermining him at every turn. And care was exactly what was needed. The wizard was strong and cunning. It had taken all his power to keep from being detected. Through the weeks he had been able to free three coven minds, and had protected them with his ancestors' magic. They were stationed in strategic spots to help. Tonight the others would come, and he had instructed those three to attempt to make contact should that be possible.

Turning, he walked down the street towards the northwestern end of Lebanon. A few people called out to him and he responded, expressing his enthusiasm for the task ahead. Yes, tonight would be the end. He needed it to end in humanity's favor.

* * *

Night had fallen, and Onida drove the SUV Joshua had rented at the airport toward the east side of Lebanon. Just before leaving, everyone had gathered once more in Caleb's suite to distribute the enormous pile of spell pouches, and to go over the battle plan for the night. Ethan and Elijah were listening via their cells set on speaker.

"Try not to wound the townspeople or coven members," Caleb stated. "But we need them out of commission, either by a spell, knocked unconscious or dead. I don't want anyone getting hurt. But these people will be doing their damndest to take us out, and I don't want any of _our_ team dead either. We do the best we can to stop Piruz from unleashing chaos on the country."

"They're under a spell," Sam added again, as though he couldn't help it. "So go for unconscious or asleep as long as it doesn't endanger your life."

"A word of caution," Caleb said. "Do not underestimate the coven members or the town's people. Yes, we're hunters; used to fighting creatures who are strong, bigger and faster than us. We got skills."

There was a smattering of laughter following that statement.

Caleb smiled. "But that doesn't mean these people don't. Joshua speculates, and Adam agrees, that for this spell to involve so many, it's likely a standard enthrallment that compels them to do Piruz's will. That doesn't mean the spell takes away skills. Some of these people might be former military, or skilled in martial arts and hunting. Watch yourselves."

Dean stepped forward. "Onida, Adam; once you breech the city, take down as many as you can. As soon as you've closed in on city center, and Joel, Daniel, Elijah and Ethan have one another for support, make your way to the park."

"Has anyone calculated the distance from the town to the park?" Adam asked. "It could be a very short drive but a longer walk."

"If it's a five minute drive time, you're looking at least an hour walk. I'm asking Joel and Daniel," Caleb nodded to the two in the room, "as well as Ethan and Eli to make sure you both get there. Keep in touch. If you're held up, we'll need to know. This is going to be a timed and executed strike. Keep your eyes on your watches and on the town's people, and we'll get it done."

Sam rose and held up a cross-body sling. "Everyone has one of these. They're not pretty, but you can put your spell pouches inside." He pulled the strap over his head and the pouch at the bottom sat in front of his body close to his right hip. "It's light and shouldn't inhibit running. Your hands will be free but the potions and spell bags will be in easy reach." Holding up the pouch, he opened it up to be seen. "Ethan, Elijah," he called, "Onida will have yours and your spell bags when she meets up with you. Now, the right side of the pouch is bigger and will be for offensive spell pouches. The left side is a bit smaller, and will be for defensive spells. The sleep potions will be there."

Sam handed out the slings to everyone.

"What are you planning on doing with Piruz?" Joel asked.

"Not an easy question," Caleb said. "He won't be an easy kill. After four thousand years of living, he knows how to survive."

"Plus he's got his little hideaway through the portal," Daniel stated.

Dean had been thinking about that portal, and wondering if the silver could be a way to prevent Piruz from going through. When he'd been fighting at Freshkills and the light had been going for Adam, he'd shouted for Adam to hold up the shield he'd made. It had been instinct. Now he wondered if that instinct was Guardian intuition. "There may be a way," he said thoughtfully.

Caleb gave Dean a searching look, and when Dean didn't elaborate further, he merely nodded and moved on. "Any questions?" When no one said anything, he said, "Then let's get our butts in gear and take down a wizard!"

Everyone clamored up, stretching and gathering their weapons, the noise level rising as the groups conferred amongst themselves. JT tossed two slings to James and Max, and started loading his from the mound of spell bags that were allotted to him and his team. Caleb took the heavy box Onida would take with her, and she grabbed the rest of the items they would need and together they walked down to the SUV.

Caleb placed the box inside the vehicle, then turned to Onida, saying, "I don't like you going into this without me."

"This hasn't been my ideal hunt either," Onida agreed. "I don't like you fighting where I can't get to you quickly."

Caleb pulled her into his arms and agreed. "When this is over, you and I are going to spend some down time together. We've been apart too much on this hunt."

"I agree. But it'll have to be quick. We're due in Washington next week."

Oh, yeah," Caleb groaned. "I forgot. But it'll be good to see the kids."

"They love us coming," Onida agreed. "You think about bringing a couple more here?"

Caleb didn't say anything for a moment. The truth was, he'd given it a lot of thought; he was used to his life being crowded. But the last year had been a huge change for him, bringing Onida into his life. Yes, he'd pretty much been raised with Sam and Dean. They and their children, as well as Joshua's kids, had been a huge part of his life. Though he loved the next generation with every fiber of his being, when push came to shove, Ben, JT and James were Dean's kids, Mary was Sam's, and Max and Josie were Joshua's. If he and Onida brought children back to Louisville, they would be _his_ children. There was something momentous about that.

"Never mind," Onida breathed, tightening her arms around Caleb. "Bad time to bring that up. Sorry. The conversation just went there."

"We should sit down and discuss it seriously."

Onida's head went back as she strained to see Caleb's face in the dim light of the hotel parking lot. "Really?"

Caleb nodded. "Really. Let's set all our cards on the table and make a decision."

Onida grinned. "Okay." Stepping back, she tossed the slings into the back of the SUV and slammed the door before climbing in behind the wheel. Closing the door, she leaned out the window and said, "I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"Drive carefully," Caleb said, meaning so much more than that.

"You too." Starting the engine, Onida backed out of the parking slot, turned, and was soon out of the parking area and gone.

Now she was close to where she would meet up with Ethan and Elijah. She'd met them before on a visit to Texas, and once on a joint hunt. She'd liked them instantly, though she'd had a harder time being around Elijah. At the outset he'd reminded her so much of Marcus, her husband of four months who had been killed by the Owl Witches more than forty years ago. Marcus had wanted to teach as well, and when Elijah enthused on a topic he found interesting, the image of Marcus doing the same flashed in her mind. Since her life had been lived in relative seclusion due to her job as the guardian of her people, this was the first time she'd met someone who had so stirred her memories. It had taken a great deal of willpower to not tear up. However, the longer she'd been around Elijah, the less he reminded her of Marcus and the more he just become just Eli. She was glad they'd gone.

Turning on CC Road, she pulled to the side and let the engine idle. She didn't like this hunt, didn't like that Caleb was somewhere she wasn't. She understood that some hunts were big, like the one on the Reservation in Washington last year. But Caleb assured her those long, difficult hunts were few and far between. Well, this _few and far_ _between_ had happened much faster than she'd anticipated. Sighing, she closed her eyes and pulled on her energy reserves, allowed her body to emanate a faint warm light. If the witches in the stolen coven were looking, she would appear as a tired driver, content to be on the road but ready to get to her destination. A look over her shoulder told her the rural two lane road had remained deserted. Gunning the engine, she got back on her way.

Turning right onto 145 Road, she was struck by the complete lack of anything moving; no animals in the fields, no bird sounds, no machines, no cars. It was like Lebanon existed inside a snow globe. It would have creeped her out if she didn't know Ethan and Elijah were only a short distance away. Within a minute she saw the twins' SUV, and pulled in behind it. Almost before she could climb out of the vehicle, Ethan had stepped outside the door of the large, metal structure and motioned for her to come inside.

Onida pulled the heavy box from the car and handed it off to Ethan before returning for the remainder of their supplies. Finally, she stepped into the shelter of the building and out of the chilly night air. When she opened her mouth to speak, Ethan shook his head and pulled the door closed. Elijah hurried past and quickly drew a sigil on the door, murmuring an incantation under his breath. When he finished, he turned around and smiled.

"We set up protections on this building," Ethan explained.

"Joshua sent us the spell," Elijah said. "If we put the sigil on the doors and windows and don't open them, no one can sense we're here or hear anything we talk about. But if we open something, the sigil needs to be redrawn and the spell repeated to ensure safety."

"I thought you two were staying at a motel?" Onida said, looking around the large building. Though nearly empty, there were a couple broken-down pieces of farm equipment, several empty barrels and bins, and grain sacks scattered around.

"We tried," Elijah admitted.

""But we were too antsy," Ethan said. "So we finally left, got something to eat and came here."

"We took some of the bedding," Elijah confessed, a slight mix of humor and mortification in his tone.

"We left money," Ethan declared.

Onida laughed. They sounded like such brothers.

"We've been taking the afternoon to sleep and rest," Ethan continued.

Onida dropped the large duffle she carried and handed the brother's the slings. "Sam sent these over."

"These are great," Ethan commented, shrugging into the sling. "The band is wide enough to stabilize the pouch, and the coarse fabric will keep it from sliding around on our jackets. Nice."

Elijah was already filling his own pouch with spell bags. "Defensive on the left, offensive on the right," he said.

Onida nodded. "Since everyone is right handed, Caleb wanted offensive pouches closer to our weapon hand."

Ethan nodded, pulling off his sling and beginning to fill it with pouches. "There are a lot of spell pouches here. We'll need to take some in a duffel."

"Maybe," Onida admitted. She had thought the same thing when carrying the load to the truck. "We'll see how many are left after we finish filling our slings."

When Ethan had filled his sling, he ran across the floor, pivoted, drew his gun, reached into the pouch and grabbed a bag and made a throwing motion. He dove behind a barrel and made several other moves. Finally, breathing hard, he walked back over to where Elijah and Onida had been watching.

"This is a bit too full for me," Ethan said, patting the sling. He began pulling some of the pouches out and transferring them to the duffel. "If the sling gets too full, we won't be able to maneuver. You should both make some moves; see how many you're comfortable carrying."

Elijah ran an obstacle course around the building before adjusting the pouches in his sling. Onida felt rather silly doing the same, but found she could actually put more spell bags in her own pouch, and was still able to maneuver very well.

Ethan hefted the duffel in the air. "You think the duffel, or the backpack?"

Elijah pulled a backpack from beside some blankets, and slung it over his shoulders. Shifting slightly, he slid it back off, saying, "The duffel. The backpack and the sling don't do well together."

"Will do," Ethan said.

Onida glanced at her watch. "When are we leaving?"

"Our ETA to hit the eastern boundary of town is exactly nine," said Ethan. Checking his watch, he continued, "If we leave here in ten, we should be in position just before nine."

"Distractions?" Onida asked.

"You being the energy specialist, we thought you could get creative," Ethan said with a smile. "The spell bags should give us some power, and we'll be able to move better when the spell dampeners go off."

"I could at that," Onida agreed, smiling. "Have you two kept your blocks up until you set the sigils on this building?"

Elijah nodded. "We've taken a break since the spell is up on the building. We needed the rest."

"Understandable." Eying the other two, Onida asked, "Since we'll all be protected walking in, have you decided on how we'll announce our arrival?"

"The coven may pick us up coming in," Elijah reminded them. "The wizard needs to finish his spell tonight, so they'll be expecting us and probably have patrols."

"But if they don't sense us, we need to do something to draw them to us," Ethan said. "We haven't settled on a firm plan yet. Have you got something in mind?"

"As a matter of fact," Onida said with a grin, "I do."

* * *

Adam shifted in the backseat of the Tourer. Daniel drove while Joel was up front in the passenger's seat. They had been conversing since they left the Holiday Inn Express, and he felt like a third wheel. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, really; having spent much of his life in this position. But for the first time he realized how quickly he'd gotten used to being included with these men over the last year. Now, being marginalized felt like a rejection. Yet he knew these two had been longtime partners, and now that Joel was back, they were enjoying their reunion. He just wished the three of them could have spoken together about the upcoming engagement. Having never been on an actual hunt before, he was nervous.

Joel suddenly looked back. Grimacing, he said, "Adam. I'm so sorry we've been caught up. Daniel has been filling me in on everything that's happened since I got thrown through that portal. Between travel, getting sleep and making spell bags, there hasn't been much time to talk and for me to find out what happened to him after I was gone."

Adam relaxed. "I understand."

Daniel glanced into the rearview mirror and added his regrets.

Joel shifted in his seat. "You been on a hunt before?"

Adam shook his head.

"It can be tough, but we got your back," Joel stated. "After entry, we've got forty-five minutes to take down as many combatants as possible and get you to the park. I tracked the distance from the town center to where you need to be. It's a five minute drive, but a much longer walk. So I figure a wheel and foot approach to our engagement."

Adam frowned. "A wheel and foot approach?"

Daniel chuckled as Joel grinned.

"We use the car as a cover," Joel clarified. "One stays inside and drives while the other two walk in and take on the aggressors."

Adam couldn't help but take in the width and breadth of the massive Van. "One of us is driving this thing into town?"

"Yeah, it's unwieldy, isn't it?" Daniel smirked.

Joel chuckled. "It'll make one helluva shield."

"If we wreck it, Caleb's going to go ape-shit."

"He's got more money than God," Joel snorted. "He'll understand."

"Then you're the one telling him."

"Wait a minute," Adam said, shaking his head slightly. "One of us in the van. You're talking about me…" For a moment he'd felt accepted. Now these two hunters were doubting his ability to fight.

"Not completely," Joel said. "But yeah, at some point you'll be the one driving. Yours is the name on the dance card, so you'll need to haul ass to the park."

"But not at first," Daniel said. "We're the last point of incursion in this engagement. We need to make a statement," he finished, grinning.

"When we arrive at the southern border," Daniel said, "we all enter the town on foot."

"They'll be waiting for us," Adam stated.

Daniel nodded, his eyes on the road. "Yeah, they will."

"Though they'll be distracted," Joel said.

"The team on the east," Adam confirmed. "Their attack will draw attention to their entry point. Same on the north. When we enter, they will have been expecting us, but will be distracted by everything happening."

Joel grinned. "Hole in one. You have an idea on how we can maximize that distraction?"

Adam nodded as he slowly smiled. He did indeed.

* * *

"Get your blocks in place," Caleb warmed JT, Max and James. "Once you get within seventeen miles of Lebanon, they'll be able to sense you."

JT nodded as he handed the duffel to James, who was already in the backseat of his car.

"We go in at exactly nine-fifteen," Max stated.

"Don't go in focused only on your weapons," Dean said, knowing Max wasn't as adverse to using spells as Joshua had been in his youth, he did tend to go for the gun rather than magic in most hunter situations. With Caleb as his mentor, it wasn't unexpected. "Use the distraction spells Adam and Josh taught you to get the town's people and coven members off center, then take them out."

"Will do."

"There are plenty of spell bags," Sam said. "Use them."

"Be careful," Caleb admonished for perhaps the tenth time. "If you need to take someone out, do it. I know it's not easy, but whether they're under a spell or not, dead is still dead."

Max nodded, knowing Caleb's _dead is still dead_ referred to them, not the coven members.

Dean moved around Caleb over to JT's side. He leaned forward into the car frame so he could see James. "Be careful, all of you. We'll see you at the park as soon as you secure your zone."

Joshua stepped forward. "Subduing the town's people and coven members is only part of this hunt. The rest will happen at the park. Get there as soon as you're able."

Max slid into the passenger's side of the car while JT climbed behind the wheel. Eyeing each member of the Triad, Max nodded once to his father and they drove away.

"I'll do the obfuscation spells," Max stated. "That puts me on point. JT, you're on my right, James on my left. Stay tight. These people are going to be fighting hard to keep us out. The wizard will have programmed them that way."

For once, James didn't needle Max or tell him they all knew this. It wasn't often they were on a hunt of this magnitude, and there would be no allowance for levity.

"Jimmy," JT said, turning his head slightly so his brother could hear his voice. "Use that clinical eye of yours. If you see anyone fighting the spell, hesitating, or acting in a less aggressive manner than the others, use the defensive potion bags on them and put them down. They may wake up with a wicked headache, but they'll be alive."

"Got it," James murmured.

No one spoke for the next ten or so minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Max said, "Does anyone know anything about this spell dad is doing to send the Tree back to Eden?"

JT shook his head while James called, "No," from the back. JT glanced over at Max, a questioning look on his face.

"No," Max said. "I don't know anything either. He just told me that we need to be in the park."

"Dad said that too," James said.

"I know," Max sighed. "I just wondered if it was something."

"Piruz is the biggest threat," JT said. "Considering most of those we'll encounter aren't trained in fighting, an all-hands to the park once our areas are controlled isn't unusual."

"But it is unusual to tell us to go," James interjected. "We would have gone anyway."

"Exactly," Max said. "Why tell us to go when its protocol?"

When his best friend didn't say anything, Max merely turned and watched the shadows of landscape go by. "It just seemed like more."

"Maybe it is," JT murmured softly. Soon enough they'd have the answer. A quick glance at the mile marker told him they were within twenty-five miles of Lebanon. He looked into the rearview mirror at his brother, then over to Max.

"Countdown," James murmured.

When the mile marker on the side of the road said twenty miles, Max said, "Blocks up."

They were within seventeen miles of Lebanon. No one said a word as the asphalt hummed beneath their tires. It wasn't long before they'd passed the crossroads of US 281 and Hwy 191.

James saw the ghostly figure of an old man standing in the middle of east/west bound Hwy 191. His eyes followed the man as he stood there, a finger pointing toward Lebanon. No thought as to the significance of the apparition crossed his mind as he looked away and focused his gaze forward.

JT took his foot off the gas and allowed the car to reduce its speed without applying the brakes. Though there had been no vehicle sightings on the highway, he was cautious about alerting anyone of their position. Reaching up to the steering wheel, he switched the head lights to low lights. Checking the mirrors, he drifted across the left hand lane, off the highway and onto the verge. Gently he applied the breaks as he maneuvered the car beneath a cluster of trees north of the town. With a turn of the key, he shut down the engine.

Max lifted the handle and pushed open the passenger door. Quietly he climbed out. A moment later James was standing at his side as they adjusted their slings. The plan was to angle east on foot until they'd reached Lebanon High School on the edge of town. From there they would enter the town.

JT leaned into his door until a soft click indicated the car was closed and locked. Glancing at his watch, the faintly illuminated dial showed it was nearly nine. They had fifteen minutes to get in place. James shifted slightly at his side, his eyes on the eastern skyline. His younger brother was antsy, but he didn't comment on it. They were all on high alert. Keeping their minds clear and blocked was of the utmost importance. The three of them hadn't spoken since they'd gotten within twenty miles of Lebanon.

Max stepped around the front of the car, gun in hand. Giving the brothers a nod, he turned and disappeared into the cluster of trees. JT looked over at James, his eyes saying everything he wouldn't say out loud. Turning, he took off after Max.

James nodded, and followed.

* * *

Dean didn't move, his gaze fixed on the taillights of JT's car until they were gone. Having sons that hunted was always a doubled edge sword. He was more proud than he could say, and more terrified than he would ever admit. While his father had been tough on he and Sam growing up, he now understood all the reasons John Winchester had kept his emotions on lockdown. While it was a choice he didn't want to emulate, not having enjoyed being on the receiving end, he could understand why his father had chosen to live that way. Looking up, he sent up a prayer to Cas that he watch out for his kids. Blowing out a silent breath, he turned and headed into the hotel to help Joshua bring down the things he needed for his spell.

Caleb remained in the parking lot, his eyes on the darkened road, following the boys psychically. He could sense they had questions, but were focused on the job at hand, something he had drilled into them for years. In a hunting situation, you may not have all the answers, but a hunter put the exclamation point on the facts they had. They would be magnificent tonight. Turning, he started for the Impala where Sam was loading their equipment. When the Scholar picked up two additional boxes and moved around to the back door, he hurried over. "Here," he said, "let me."

"Thanks," Sam breathed, placing one box on the backseat before turning to the trunk. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just hate everyone going off in different directions."

Sam knew it wasn't only the boys that had Caleb concerned. It was being away from Onida as well. "They'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know." Slamming the trunk shut, Caleb turned to head back into the hotel only to see Joshua, Dean and Ryker emerging from the double front doors. "Is that all of it?"

"Yes," Joshua said, gladly handing his burden over to Sam and following the younger man to the car.

Caleb flipped open the trunk for Sam to load the box he carried. Ryker placed his inside as well before the trunk was shut. "Well," Caleb said, "Looks like it's time to get this show on the road."

Joshua walked to the passenger's door and slid inside. Between him, Ryker and Sam, he was the shortest, and therefore had relegated himself to sitting in the middle. It was unfair, really, that at six-foot-two, he was eclipsed by the other two. If Dean wasn't such a drama queen about driving his car, then he would be sitting in the middle.

As though Dean could read Joshua's mind, he leaned forward slightly and narrowed his eyes, snorting softly.

Joshua rolled his own in response and stared straight out the front windshield. "We could have taken the Tourer, you know." Dean attempted to hide his smile as he climbed behind the wheel, but didn't succeed. He didn't look remotely repentant about it either, _the bastard_, Joshua thought.

Dean didn't turn around. He had decided that tact, rather than rubbing Joshua's face in the fact that he was sitting with his knees in this face, was the new definition of valor. The car creaked and shifted as Ryker, Sam and Caleb all got in.

When every door was closed, Caleb shifted in his seat so he could see everyone. "Tonight is going to be tough and we're going to need every skill we've got. Expect Piruz to fight dirty, and we're going to do the same. The most important thing is to watch out for each other."

"We'll watch out for you too," Sam quipped, smirking. This was a variation of Caleb's usual _this is going to be tough, watch out for each_ speech he did before every hunt. They all knew it by heart, but it was comforting to hear just the same.

Rolling his eyes, Caleb stated, "I just mean that Piruz has thousands of years of experience on us. He'll probably use some fighting techniques we're not familiar with. We need to be on our game."

"While the wizard has a legion of tactical experience to dwarf even Lord Nelson or Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus," Ryker said, "the young have innovation, creativity and an inventiveness not bound by millennia of experience. In most campaigns, youth coupled with skill and experience rules the day over experience alone."

"So what you're saying," Caleb drawled, "is that we don't have the years of experience to know something won't work, so we do it and make it work."

Ryker's lips twitched with humor. "Something like that."

Sam looked torn between amused and disgruntled. "That's comforting and demeaning at the same time."

Joshua chuckled.

"I wonder how old Africanus was at the height of his military success," Dean mused.

"You know who that is?" Sam asked, skeptically.

Dean turned the car key and the Impala roared to life. "I wasn't born under a rock, Sam," he declared, rolling his eyes. Some things never changed. "Given how we were raised, you think dad didn't make sure I knew who the greatest military strategists in history were?"

"Excellent," Ryker remarked, his eyes sparkling.

"History of military leadership is not normal hunting lessons," Sam retorted scathingly.

"From dad? He was military, Sam; USMC."

"I know that," Sam declared with a frown. "But I don't remember him teaching us that."

"That's because you refused to study military history," Dean said, backing the car from its parking slot.

"What?" Sam exclaimed, startled. "I couldn't refuse. Dad wouldn't have allowed it!"

Dean and Caleb exchanged a quick glance. There were several things Sam had refused to do growing up. Though a very stubborn man, John Winchester rarely had the energy to press many of these issues with his equally stubborn youngest son. "You declared that your homework and doing well in school was more important than learning military history. And that if you ever went to the Citadel or Texas A&M, you'd learn it then. Not before."

Sam stared at the back of his brother's head as Dean maneuvered out of the Holiday Inn Express parking lot, his mouth hanging open.

"After all," Caleb quipped. "Who needs to know military strategy or the most brilliant military strategists in history?"

"Naw, that's never going to come in handy," Dean drawled. He was making a valiant attempt to keep from laughing.

"Such is the logic often applied to the study of mathematics," Joshua said casually. "Why should we learn algebra? When will we ever use it in our lives?"

"And we deal with numbers all the time," Ryker nodded, trying to keep his humor from breaking loose.

"Oh, shut up," Sam griped.

Laughter erupted in the car as Dean turned onto the main road, the release of tension welcome and needed considering the battle they would soon face. Baby's engine roared, and the Impala accelerated toward the highway.

**.**

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you for the comments, Shazza19 and my mystery Guest reviewer! Stand by for some excitement coming up!_


	26. Chapter 26

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 26

.

_Phase One - Nine O'clock Entry_

Ethan, Elijah and Onida jogged through the darkness trying to find some camouflage in the sparse trees that lined the road. Most of the land surrounding the building in which they'd taken shelter was farm land, therefore opportunities for cover were few and far between. As they ran, clods of dirt in the freshly tilled fields provided a challenge to their dexterity, as they were thrown off balance by the uneven ground. Elijah reasoned that since they were moving in a hunched manner due to the lack of cover, at least they were closer to the ground if they fell. One advantage they did have in approaching from the east, was the farm houses nearest the fields. In going through residential zones, there would be magical alerts near the houses, but spell lines would not be placed in yards, as residents would trip those daily.

They'd been moving quickly for almost twenty minutes when Ethan tapped Elijah on the shoulder and made a motion to the north. They changed direction and within a minute or two had reached the fruit trees and backyard shed of the first modest home. Quietly they passed through junk-filled backyards, climbed a rickety fence or two, and dodged the light of backdoor porch lamps. Slipping over a lopsided front yard fence, they stopped near a tree and checked the street. According to the plan, they needed to go north one block then turned west onto Chicago. Two blocks would have them entering Main Street near the small Lebanon Building and Loan Office. Ladow's Market, the Post Office, Community Center and City Hall would be down the block, south of their position.

Ethan pulled a ziplock bag from his pocket. Everything had happened so fast since they'd placed the spell dampening pouches, Ethan had neglected to ask Joshua whether they would know when the spell went off. Now, however, they needed to know how many spells were on the road and sidewalks. Holding the bag of spell dust out to Onida, he raised his eyebrows. Did she want to do the honors?

Onida gave a silent snort and rolled her eyes. Ignoring the detection spell sand Joshua had made, she simply pooled her energy, letting golden light flow down her arms into her hands. Then, she threw the light down Willow toward the north. As they watched, the lights drifted across the road onto an expanse of empty grass, past a few trees, all the while spreading into a wide arc. A few lines glowed and suddenly it appeared as though the energy had hit a wall and splatted. Then the glow mellowed slightly and went through the wall, fading and eventually disappearing on the other side.

Ethan frowned. Looking to Onida, he twirled his finger and pointed.

Nodding, Onida threw out more energy, this time west toward Maple Street. The energy soused and morphed over the terrain, revealing several spell lines and traps.

Elijah eyed the road. After a second, he murmured, "A bit more open than I thought."

Ethan gave him a sardonic look, which had Elijah shrugging with a smile.

Turning to Onida, Ethan pointed south, to where 145 Road intersected with Willow. _Boom?_ he mouthed. They could use the misdirect as they crossed through the sparse residential area into town. Smiling, she focused on sending a massive energy spike across the field to the cross section of Elm and Willow. It would register as a massive animal to anyone paying attention, and she had no doubt someone was paying attention. She hoped it would divert the townspeople away from them, at least initially. Turning north, avoiding the street and sidewalk, they ghosted by the scanty little homes.

They'd just passed through a front yard when Ethan abruptly froze and looked south toward Kansas. Dark figures could be seen in the distance, moving fast toward where Onida had sent her energy blast. They didn't have long before they were discovered. He held his blocks strongly in place, not thinking of even an iota of their plan; just moving on instinct. Thus, when the wave of repelling energy rolled their way with all the force of a tsunami, his sixth sense made him react. Twirling Onida behind a pine tree, he grabbed at his brother as he dropped, which was made easier as Elijah was already halfway to the ground. They both landed with a grunt and hung on for dear life as harsh wind tore past over their heads, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Elijah eyed his brother, then glanced up to check on Onida.

Grinning down at the pair in the dirt, Onida declared, "I believe they know we're here."

"Ya think?" Ethan snorted, climbing to his feet. "Well, Eli?"

"Why don't we kick some townie ass?"

"Is that professor speak?" Onida asked humorously.

"Its hunter speak," Ethan stated.

Stepping off the sidewalk, they abandoned stealth ran past trees and through back yards between Willow and Chicago. Just before they stepped away from the last homes onto the sidewalk near Chicago, Onida suddenly help up a hand. Reaching out, she touched a protection line. It felt like a solid wall and zapped at her hand. "Ouch!" she exclaimed softly.

"Can we get through?" Ethan asked, keeping a watchful eye on the south. Though were now hidden in the residential homes, they couldn't underestimate the coven under Piruz's control.

"Maybe…" Onida gathered her energy, pooling it into her core until it was a hot, red ball. She pulled the energy into her hands, two scalding balls of kinetic power, and hurled them at the protection line.

The energy slammed into the line and spread like molten fire along the wall. Suddenly there was a loud snap, and the wall disappeared, leaving the flaming energy to hover in the air a moment before it dwindled away.

"Nice one," Elijah said.

"This watcher person will know right where we are," Onida warned.

At the same time, Ethan hissed, "We got incoming," as he watched several people racing in their direction. Pulling the ziplock bag from his pocket, he blew out dust into the street. Lines lit up like a checkerboard. Plotting a pathway, he said, "Let's move."

Dodging the lines, the three ran through a front yard and set off across Willow Street heading toward Chicago. However, Ethan had only just stepped past a picket fence onto the west sidewalk when he suddenly stumbled and went down.

"Ethan!" Elijah shouted, rushing over.

"Stop!" Ethan huffed, his voice strained. "Can't … move."

Onida was already pulling energy into her hands when a sudden flash of translucent light washed across the small Midwest town like a wave. Abruptly Ethan shoved himself onto his side and crawled laboriously to his feet.

Elijah rushed forward, only to be forcibly thrust into a slower cadence. He felt like he was wading through rushing water. "What … the hell?"

Onida threw energy about six feet to the left of where the twins were standing, and in a flash, both men were able to move with ease. Quickly they reached out for Onida and began running again. As they did so, Elijah asked, "What happened? How did you get up?"

"I believe our spell dampeners just went off," Ethan said with a grin. He would have to tell Joshua about that little light show. "I was pinned tighter than a roped bull in a rodeo. Then suddenly I could move. It was tough, but I could move."

"Between Joshua and Onida, we're a hard team to beat," Elijah remarked as seven men rounded the corner of a ramshackle building just ahead of them, blocking their path.

"Guess a straight shot was too much to ask for," Onida said.

"Then let's clear a path," Ethan stated, and pulled a spell pouch from his back, reared back and hurled it into the crowd. "Let's see what you got," he muttered.

.

The old woman's hands moved sporadically over her bowl, her distress obvious. This couldn't be happening. They had been so very careful in laying the protection lines, and they were very good at their job. The coven had been intact for over a century: a century of protecting people. Now their methods were failing. No, she frowned as her hands moved over the liquid potion surface. Not failing exactly; being subverted. A commotion at the door had her looking up.

The old man from the room next door was standing there, panicked. "What is happening?"

A soft swish sounded, and the young woman appeared at the man's shoulder.

"Our protection lines have degraded," the older woman snapped, still frowning at her bowl.

"I saw that," the man exclaimed, stepping more fully into the room. "Why?"

"I don't know," the woman exclaimed, anxiety and irritation at the situation evident in her voice. "When did yours collapse?"

"Around six minutes after nine o'clock."

"Mine at the same time." Eyeing the older woman, the young woman asked tentatively, "Should we call…" Quickly her eyes dropped beneath the quelling gaze of the older woman.

"No," the other woman snapped. Reaching into a cup to her right, she put a pinch of powder into the bowl and continued her work. "The Old One has deemed him unworthy."

"We never thought that before," the young woman argued, a stubborn set to her jaw.

"Silence," the older woman hissed, sending a glare in her direction.

"What should we do?" the man asked.

The older woman frowned, staring down into her bowl. The Old One had set the other two to monitor the town, and she was to monitor the whole. He had ordered them all to work in separate rooms, his explanation being that each would be able to concentrate better without the others as distraction. She was about to countermand that order. "Bring your equipment in here."

The younger woman and older man exchanged looked. "You're sure?" the man asked.

"Yes. We will need the power of all three to reinstate our protections."

"How do you plan on doing that?" the man asked boldly. "We do not have the luxury of going out and laying the lines once again."

"If need be, we will use the ley lines to energize the protection spells."

The man and younger woman blinked, their eyes wide. To invoke the power of nature was not amongst any of their skills.

Finally, the younger woman stated the obvious. "None of us is a nature-worker."

"The Old One demanded the protections lines to keep out the others," the older woman snapped. "Bring your things here now, and we will restore what has been dismantled." When neither of the others moved, she shouted, "Now!" As the two raced from the room, the old woman sagged. Her bravado could only take her so far. Murmuring under her breath, she held her hands over the bowl in an attempt to discover the exact reason their lines had gone down. Thinking back to the two men who had come through Lebanon that afternoon, she retraced their path, feeling the way for anything of magic. And that's when she found it; spell dampeners.

The magic was magnificent in its construct and intricacy: a spell within a dormant, delayed spell. The ingredients would have looked benign and supine until the appointed time. Now that the spell had been released, she could trace the original spells back to their focal points. There, she could use the help of the others to quell the foreign spell and allow the original spells to flourish once more. But would there be time? The intruders were already within the town. Would they know where the Old One was working? She had to surmise that they did. However, her job was to protect the town and keep the fighters within its borders either occupied or dead.

Dead.

The word jarred her brain like a square peg attempting to fit into a round hole. Blinking once, long and slow, the word went through her head again: dead. What was dead? It was something bad, but she couldn't fully remember. Her eyes went back down to bowl and she watched the patterns in the potion. Just then the older man and young woman hurried back into the room, jostling their bowls and potions bags, and the moment was lost.

Pointing to two spots on the floor for the others to set up, she said, "Do exactly as I say, and we can rebuild the protections lines and save the town."

.

_Nine-Ten _

A half mile from the parking area for the Center of the Forty-Eight States Park, Dean pulled the Impala to the side of the road. "Team One is already in," he noted, glancing over at Caleb. The older man was staring out the front windows as though he could see what was happening, and Dean knew he was psychically tracking the activity in town.

"Everyone's all right so far," Caleb said.

Dean knew Caleb was worried for Onida, but his concern was for Ethan and Elijah's welfare as well.

Caleb pulled his eyes off the dark horizon and gave Dean a sly grin. "Onida sent this massive energy bull into the town about two blocks south of where they entered Lebanon. That caused a bit of confusion."

Sam's brow rose. "A bit?"

"A lot. But the townspeople righted themselves pretty quickly." Caleb shifted around in his seat so he could see Joshua. "Earlier, Elijah said that dude in the diner talked about there being a watcher. Someone is definitely leading this charge; the townspeople adapted way to fast for it to have been natural."

"That someone is probably working a revelation spell," Joshua observed, scooting from the middle of the backseat toward the door now that Ryker had gotten out. When he was finally standing, he stretched hard in relief. It was good to be out of the cramped quarters. "Revelation spells are good, but nowhere near as good as a psychic."

"Thank you," Caleb remarked, sliding out of the front seat. Though Joshua had given them new and improved protection pouches, his blocks were up and titanium strong. Of course, Piruz already knew they were coming. Team One's infiltration into Lebanon was their salvo across the bow. Piruz's backups were being taken off the chess board.

Dean glanced down at his watch. "Four minutes and JT, Max and James should be going in."

Ryker glanced reflexively off to the left, wishing he was with his team. A hand on his shoulder had him turning to look into the understanding eyes of the Guardian.

"They're going to be fine," Dean said.

"Yeah, they are," Ryker agreed. "I'd just like to be with them."

"That won't always be possible," Joshua said. "There will be times when the Advisor must work elsewhere for the benefit of his Triad." Giving the younger man a quick pat on the back, he continued, "Today is a good example of that."

Sam walked forward, a large backpack hanging from his shoulders. It was filled with the herbs and spell bags Joshua had made for sending the Tree back to Eden. He, Dean and Ryker had agreed they were taking most of Joshua's materials to save the older man the weight of carrying them to the park. Caleb handled their slings, already loaded down with spell pouches. "We need to get going. We've got about twelve minutes before we go in."

Caleb slung a heavy backpack over his shoulders, then leaned down and hefted a large duffel. "Let's head out, double time."

They started jogging quietly through the underbrush, angling toward the park. When they got within a hundred yards of the grassland, they slowed. Joshua glanced over at Dean and nodded. He took the backpack from Sam, Ryker took more equipment from Caleb, and the pair of them continued on toward the park.

Caleb frowned, looking to Dean, his brows raised in question.

Dean had been thinking all afternoon about how he, Sam and Caleb would be able to protect themselves in the battle against Piruz. The park was wide open, with only the occasional trash can for cover. Against a wizard of Piruz's power, they needed something to protect themselves against his attacks. A solution had come to him while talking with Pastor Jim in his dream Eden. If Eden wanted the Tree back and was helping them - as much as a Garden could, that is - then maybe his idea would work just this once. After all, he used water to make the Brotherhood rings, and those stayed solid. In theory, this should work as well. Deciding to take the chance, he pulled a canteen from his sling.

Pouring water into his hand, Dean focused on transforming the substance. If he could do a sword last year, he could do this. Within seconds he was holding a large, silver shield twenty-seven inches tall and seventeen inches wide. It curved in slightly at the sides to protect the holder, and had a cross on the front like a Knights Templar shield. Turning to Caleb, who was staring at the shield like a kid in a candy store, he handed it over. Quickly he repeated the process. This time the silver shield was thirty inches tall and nineteen inches wide. Sam was, after all, taller than either of them. Turning, he handed the shield to Sam.

Sam had been staring at Caleb's shield in awe, and now his eyes moistened. Smiling, he nodded to his brother. He had a load of questions about how this was possible, but right now it didn't matter. He took his sling from Caleb and slung it over his body.

Caleb handed Dean his own sling, packed with spell bags.

_Watch your backs._

Dean nodded. Sam raised a hand and gave Caleb a two-fingered salute, then he jogged off toward the eastern edge of the park and the Midway Co-Op gas station. Dean eyed Caleb a moment, then turned and followed Sam, leaving the older man standing alone in the darkness. Caleb watched as both figures disappeared into the shadows, then leaned down and picked up the last of the equipment Ryker and Joshua would need. Quietly he headed directly in toward the park.

A minute later he stepped into a very tiny clearing where Ryker and Joshua were sorting their supplies a few feet in front of a weathered picnic table. Piles of spell bags, a bowl, and the four large spell pouches Dean had filled with seeds that afternoon were lined up on the leaf-strewn ground. Joshua looked up, spotted Caleb and nodded. Ryker turned around, then froze as his eyes lit upon the large, shiny silver shield. After a moment he grinned, took some of the bags from the Knight's arms and started going through them. Caleb had just set down his load when they heard an explosion off to their left. With no expression of surprise or shock, three heads turned to the northern end of town where JT, James and Max had just entered Lebanon with extreme prejudice.

.

Standing outside a massive circle surrounding a huge tree, Piruz knew Merlin's warriors were attacking. They were on the eastern side of the town, trying to divert his attention away from performing the rituals needed to lose the Chaos Spell. How very predictable. Instead of approaching him in a frontal engagement, they were attempting to draw him away. But he was more than prepared. The townspeople would be his guard. Enslaving those who lived here had been child's play. They were unhappy and open to manipulation. Why would they choose to live in such dismal surroundings when there were so many more delectable choices nearby?

A woman walked over, her hair and face covered in a thin veil. Head down, she held a large porcelain bowl out before her. A thin piece of woven cloth lay draped over the sides, and rose petals floated across the watery surface.

"Bonum," _(Good)_ Piruz said. His eyes went to the double row of seven kneeling women, all clothed in white, their heads bowed, and all he felt was irony. This coven chose to protect others; they would now protect him. Robe sleeves pushed up his arms and began the ceremonial cleansing. Dipping his hands into the bowl, he carefully washed his body; arms up to his robes, his neck and face. He then cupped some water and dribbled it over his head. When he finished, a second shrouded and veiled woman rose to her feet and hurried over with a pristine, neatly folded white towel lying atop her open palms. Piruz took the towel and dabbed at his face and head. When he handed it back, he murmured, "Relinquam," _(leave)_ making a go away gesture. Both women hurried away.

Finally, he turned to the Tree to survey his handiwork.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil stood in the middle of a massive forty foot circle. The size was needed to encompass the entire tree; trunk, branches, leaves and fruit. On each of the cardinal sides of the Tree, a large bubble was crafted into the circle. Inside each of these five-foot wide bubbles stood a man clothed in a white robe. Hands clasped before them, their hood-covered heads were bowed so that nothing could be seen of their faces. These men were the anchor points of the binding circle. Their living presences kept the Tree from breaking through the static bond that held it in place. Numerous years of trial and work had finally lead to this discovery, that only a living component to his spell would let the Tree grow to its fullest height while keeping it contained. The Tree did not want to remain in this realm; its very being did not want to be contained by another.

Piruz stood and looked up at the Tree. "'ant mulzim alan , shajarat." _(You are bound now, Tree.)_

One of the men inside the bubbles wobbled slightly, and Piruz hurried forward, anger coursing through him. He would not allow it. These sentinels had profited from plenty of rest. They would stand and do their duty.

Stepping before the one who had teetered, Piruz waved a hand to close the inner circle of the binding circle. Once the circle was sealed, he then opened a small hole in the bubble circle and blew in some spell dust. "Stare recta!" he barked. _(Stand straight!)_

The man screamed and hunched in against the pain, his hands clutched together to keep from scraping at his cloak. This would only anger the wizard further, and he did not want to endure further pain.

"Officio nec corpus portabit iniquitatem vestram," Piruz warned as he stepped back and closed the small window in his binding spell. _(Do your duty or suffer the consequences.)_

When the cloaked figure finally straightened and, after a brief wobble, stood completely still, Piruz pulled back the inner circle again, allowing this bubble to rejoin the spell once more. Turning, he hurried to his bags and pulled out a large scroll. Placing it on the grass, he pulled three large sacks heavy with potions from his leather case.

Just then a massive explosion rocked the northern edge of Lebanon. Scrambling to his feet, Piruz stared at the fire and dust shooting up through the air. More Warriors, he thought. Merlin's Chosen had friends this time. But they would not divert him; he had waited for far too long. Tonight, Chaos would reign. Quickly he bent back down and continued arranging the items he would need to finish his spell.

.

_Phase Two - Nine-Fifteen Entry_

"I think they heard that one," Max stated with a grin.

"An exploding spell pouch?" James stated, eyes watering with the arid stench of the spell ingredients. "Ya think?"

"Might as well make a statement," JT said. Grabbing a spell bag from the defensive side of his bag, he lobbed it at a woman and two men running in their direction. The spell hit the ground and a white mist rose quickly and encompassed the three. Only the woman came through as though the spell was merely a patch of fog.

"She's protected," Max called, tossing another spell bag. This one hit the ground a mere eight inches in front of the woman, stopping her in her tracks. Choking, she lobbed a spell bag in the air at them before she fell.

James lifted the small canister with a metal neck dangling from a strap across his body, hit the lever and a tongue of flame jutted out and licked up the spell pouch before it could get near them. Grinning, he said, "And you didn't want me to bring this."

Max ducked behind a car, saying, "I believe it was Ryker who said it was impractical to carry that into the town."

"He said that without the tank, I wouldn't be able to use it for too long before the canister was empty," James corrected, running across the street and joining Max behind the car.

"Exactly," Max said, lobbing another spell bag over the car, where it hit a man in the chest, taking down two. "Impractical. You'll only get maybe another three licks out of it before its empty."

"Then I'll use them well."

JT threw another spell bag, but it bounced off the three men running their way. "These are protected!" Rising as he lifted a lightweight gun and pulled the trigger twice in quick succession. The two men fell to the ground; one with a tranquilizer dart in his neck, the other with one sticking out of this chest. "We won't be able to avoid using weapons for long," he said, as another dart flew from his gun and hit a woman in the chest.

James threw two more spell bags. A woman and a young man fell, but more townspeople continued to come.

Suddenly Max darted out from behind the car and threw himself full-tilt at three men who had guns. His action was so abrupt, the men had no chance to raise the weapons they carried, to aim or fire. All went down and Max punched two of them in the face, knocking them out. The third, however, had time to react, and the pair tackled one another as they rolled across the asphalt. Two additional men ran toward the struggling twosome, prompting JT to rush them, knocking them aside. He grabbed Max by the collar and dragged him over to an old-fashioned phone booth.

"Really?" JT barked. "You thought running out and physically tackling them was a good idea?" He leaned out from around the booth and threw another two spell pouches.

"I didn't want to get shot," Max remarked, throwing another spell pouch out into the crowd. "They were getting ready to aim their guns. I didn't want to give them the chance." The spell bag hit what looked like an invisible wall and exploded. "Damn." Pulling his gun, he shot over the on-comer's heads, causing them to scatter.

JT looked around to where James was still crouched behind the car. To Max, he said, "Take the alley, get around behind them. I'll keep their attention focused here."

Nodding, Max turned and darted down the alley behind them, leaving JT behind. He understood that getting behind the townspeople was smart, but he didn't like leaving his Guardian and Scholar. Running down a dirt alley behind a small house, he rounded a corner near an abandoned gas station and hit what felt like a live wire. His body seized and he was slammed against the wall of a building. Eyes closed, he gritted his teeth and forced his legs to move forward. It was difficult, but eventually he pushed his way through what he realized was a protection line. Stumbling slightly, he grabbed the spell sand his father had made and blew some into the air. A few lines lit up along the alley. Quickly he plotted a path through the lines and forced his aching body to start jogging again. As he moved, he realized his father's spell dampeners must have made it possible for him to get through the spell. "Thanks, Dad," he murmured, knowing that if it hadn't been for Ethan's idea and his father's skill, he would have been pinned to the building like a bug back there. Upon reaching the corner, he blew spell sand out into the air again and marked his path. Feeling in definite need of some payback, he rounded the corner of Joe's Service Station and backtracked to his team.

**.**

With Max gone, JT crouched down as James sent another tongue of flame out into the night. People scattered, and a few screams punctuated the air.

JT saw a group of ten or twelve people heading toward James. Grabbing a handful of spell pouches, he stepped away from the phone booth and lobbed two directly into the center of the group, one to the left side and two to the right. The spell pouches burst into reddish mist that surrounded the five people nearest the detonation, and they began to scream. Others ran, their attention divided now between him and his brother. Over the din JT heard someone murmuring what sounded like an incantation. Sighting on the spell caster, he rapidly sent a dart in their direction. It hit the man in the neck, causing him to collapse. At the same time, a spell pouch flew at him. He tried to dive away, but the spell caught his left arm. Grunting in pain, he stumbled and nearly fell as fire licked up his arm toward his shoulder. Quickly he rummaged in the corner of his sling and grabbed a bottle Adam had given each of them. Popping the cork with a shaking hand, he shook out a few drops of the liquid onto his arm. Almost immediately the pain dulled and the fire stopped. Though still painful, Adam's healing potion had stopped the course of the spell. He recorked the bottle and slipped it back into his sling. When he looked up, he could see James' white face staring in his direction. The younger man tossed a potion haphazardly over his head, not bothering to see where it landed or who it struck. A scream followed, but his gaze remained on his brother. JT nodded and gave the thumbs up. Sighing, James nodded.

JT peered around the corner of the phone booth. There were a few people on the ground, and a cluster of men and women near a large pickup truck. Four men were jogging toward him, using the cars on the street as cover. A potion bag coming from where James crouched hit one of the men. However, something caused the spell pouch to break before it reached the body's of the other three, and they came on. Once again, they were protected. Grimacing, JT did the only thing he could: he lifted his gun and shot the man in the frontal position in the leg.

Screaming, the man went down. The other two drug him back behind a car. Once their comrade was secure, they continued forward. Now the men and women who had been clustered near the truck started moving in James' direction. _Where was Max?_ JT hoped he hadn't been caught up in a spell line. Peering around the booth again, he aimed and shot one of the two remaining men in the shoulder, but missed the other as he ducked closer to the car. Pulling out another spell bag, he leaned over and slung it low to the ground, like dad had taught him to throw rocks across the pond growing up. The pouch sailed beneath the car, but was prevented from striking the man by his protection.

James peeked around the side of the car and saw five people trotting in his direction. Pulling three spell pouches from his sling, he glanced quickly around the car. He hope that the three spell bags combined could do what one could not; overwhelm the protections afforded the townspeople by a coven specializing in protection. A spell bag flew in his direction, but he dodged to the other end of the car as grayish smoke billowed out. In his favor, the wind wafted the mist in the other direction. Rising up, he threw the three bags as hard as JT throwing a fastball. They hit the ground right before the first man. Black, green and blue mist spiraled out of the spell bags. The people fell back, one coughing, some screaming and slapping at any exposed skin. One girl fell to the ground, retching. James grimaced. He hated seeing this happen to these people; they were victims in this too. But sick and in pain was better than dead.

JT's attention was divided between the people James was tackling, and the man currently sidling his way along the cars. Suddenly a staccato of gunfire sounded from behind the townspeople, and JT signed. Max. The man behind the car turned and ran back to his mates. The people previously heading toward James scattered in confusion. At the same time, a massive billow of red smoke and flame arose like a phoenix emerging from the flames at the other end of town. It was quite beautiful, really, as the flames danced higher and higher, until an enormous BOOM rippled through the town, knocking everyone off their feet.

**.**

_Phase Three - Nine-Twenty Entry_

"That was fantastic!" Joel crowed, sporting a broad grin as he watched the fiery column reaching upward into the air. Scrambling out from around the side of a building, he gave a soft _whoop_!

It had taken getting past three protection lines before Joel, Daniel and Adam could enter Lebanon. They had muscled their way past two additional spells lines, the trek on foot made much easier by Joshua's spell dampening magic. Then Adam had used his knowledge of spells to get them past a particularly heavy spell patch and to the very edge of town before he had combined the gunpowder from two of Daniel's bullets with three incendiary spells to create the blast that had rocked the town and beyond.

"You wanted an entrance," Daniel stated, stepping out from behind a wall to stand beside his fellow hunter and friend. "Looks like you got one."

Adam smiled, though his attention was diverted by the three figures running at them from the right. Palming an offensive spell pouch, he hurled it in their direction. The spell hit precisely where he'd intended; five feet in front of the charging men. Blackish gray smoke plumed up from the split bag, and the men started to stumble and cough. One went to his knees, retching.

There were very few people at this end of the town, as the incursion on the east and the spell blast at the north had pulled the townspeople in those directions. Since Piruz could only lull around thirty people, there were only a few on the south side.

Joel jogged ahead and checked out the buildings on the left side of the street. Daniel motioned for Adam to stay with the car, and he checked out the homes on the right.

Adam kept an eye on the road ahead, watching the sidewalks and attempting to see if anyone was hiding in the shops up Main. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a plastic bag filled with silver and green dust. Pinching some between his fingers, he murmured an incantation, lifted his hand in the air and blew.

The dust wafted out and down the road where it passed a glowing line one block down, two others crisscrossed about half way down the block. Still, the potion melted through the lines and continued down the street. When it hit a reddish line two blocks further, it appeared to stall for a moment before it dribble across the line, only to slowly dissipate as it floated on.

"Protection lines?"

Adam turned to see Daniel at his shoulder. "Yes."

"How do we get through them?"

"My potion went through the first few lines without hindrance. Though the last line was stronger, the potion still went through."

"The dampening spells," Daniel affirmed, his eyes on the small cluster of men trying to regroup.

Adam nodded. "We should still be able to get through, even if we experience some difficulty."

"Like…?" Daniel asked.

Before Adam could answer Joel jogged up looking somewhat worse for wear.

"Are you all right?" Daniel exclaimed softly.

"Hit a protection line back there," Joel said, his breathing harsh. His face was red and there were burn marks on his arms and neck. "Reckon it would have been worse if not for the spell dampeners."

Daniel pulled out the small bottle Adam had given them before they'd come. Pulling the stopper from the bottle, he dribbled a little across Joel's arms, neck and face.

Nodding, Joel relaxed a bit and murmured, "Thanks."

As he put the bottle back in his sling, Daniel check his watch. "We need to get to the city center."

"I'd say the redline spell was near the Community Center," Adam said. "That's where the fortifications are going to be the strongest." He turned and spotted the men he'd hit with spells earlier had regained their footing and their equilibrium.

"We got incoming," Joel stated, limping quickly to the car for cover. Reaching into his sling, he pulled out two spells bags and threw them toward the on-comers. Daniel and Adam had to rush to the driver's side of the Tourer as the townspeople returned fire, throwing spell bags in their direction.

Daniel reached into the Tourer and snatched up a tee shirt. Whirling it into a sleek tube, he wacked out at the spell bags flying in their direction, sending them sailing several yards away.

Joel started to laugh. "Nice improvisation there, hombre."

"We'd better get going before they decide to throw more than two spell bags. I don't think I could deflect more," Daniel stated. "Joel, you're first in the truck. Adam and I will take point. When we hit Kansas Avenue, Adam takes the SUV, goes left and heads for the park."

"And we head into downtown to meet up with the others," Joel stated.

Daniel nodded as Adam leaned around the front of the Tourer, murmured a short incantation and threw three spell bags at the oncoming group. The people scattered as the bags hit. Two lost the ability to stand upright and fell to the ground while the third and fourth escaped the impact of the spell by diving to the side behind a trash receptacle.

Joel quickly pulled himself behind the wheel of the Tourer and turned the key.

Daniel eyed a small group of people running down the main street of Lebanon. They were passing through the protection lines without any trouble, and he knew they were protected by coven magic. Pulling three spell pouches from his sling, he judged the distance and thought he might be able to give them something to think about. "I've got a sweet curve ball throw."

Adam's lips quirked. "I'd like to see that."

"Will these go through the protection lines?"

"I'd wait till they pass the first two lines, then throw."

The engine behind them revved. Daniel stepped to the front right of the Tourer while Adam jumped up on the running board of the passenger's front side, leaning into the open door. Moving slowly, Joel started driving down the street. When two men threw spell pouches at the Tourer, Adam threw dust into the air to counter the spells while Joel veered left.

As they moved down Main Street, Daniel waited until the group coming in their direction stopped a block away. Blinking, he frowned and moved to throw the spell bags when three men attacked them from the side.

Daniel was slammed to the ground right in the pathway of the Tourer. Luckily, Joel hadn't been driving more than ten miles per hour, and he quickly slammed on the breaks and jumped from the vehicle. Adam was sandwiched between the door and the car frame. Grunting, he shoved against the vehicle with all his might and slammed the door away from him, knocking the man shoving it to the ground. Promptly he jumped to the pavement and kicked the man in the head, knocking him out.

Joel rounded the front of the car and grabbed at the collar of the man on top of Daniel. Dragging him to the side, he slammed his fist in the man's face. The man, however, appeared to have been trained in combat, for he rocked backward but came on, using his momentum to throw a punch at Joel. It connected and Joel stumbled back into the car. Bleeding copiously from his nose, his right eye swelling, Daniel scrambled off the ground and launched himself at the man's legs, taking him to the ground. Joel reached into his sling and pulled out a spell bag, but was tackled by a second man before he could shove it in the face of the man Daniel had pinned.

Adam faced off against a man who fell into a common Judo stance. Keeping the smirk off his face, he copied the stance. As one proficient in Ninjutsu, a form of Japanese martial arts used by fighters most widely known as ninjas, he wasn't about to tip his hand to his opponent just yet. He could hear Daniel and Joel wresting with the other two men behind him. Movement in his peripheral vision showed the four they'd taken down a few minutes prior were getting shakily to their feet. Before he could do more than register that fact, his opponent came at him, arms raised in a classic judo move. Quickly Adam sidestepped the man and delivered a blow to the back of his neck, then flipped the man onto the ground, immobilizing his arm and delivering an elbow blow to the side of his head, knocking him out.

Daniel slammed his opponent's face into the ground and shoved a spell bag into his face. The man collapsed, laying still. Shoving himself up, he quickly checked in on Joel, who was dodging a clenched fist. Suddenly a stranger darted out from the west side of the street and shoved a bag into the face of the man Joel was fighting, and he went down.

Stumbling backward in shock, Joel took up a defensive stance and eyed the man warily.

"Thank … you for … helping us," the man panted. Leaning forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath obviously spent from having run some distance.

Cautiously, Joel relaxed his position and stepped forward. "You are?"

"Keith Drummond," the man said, finally standing up straight. "From Oberlin. It's my coven the wizard kidnapped."

After checking on Adam, Daniel stumbled over and leaned into the Tourer for support.

Joel gave him the once over, asking, "You all right?"

"Been better," Daniel grunted.

"Let me help," Keith said, stepping forward.

"Whoa," Daniel warned, raising a cautioning hand. "Who're you?"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Adam said, stepping around the front of the Tourer. "The men to our rear are getting to their feet … somewhat, and heading in this direction."

Joel grinned, he couldn't help it. "Somewhat?" he asked, taking a quick look behind them. The four townspeople they had taken out a minutes before were recovering slowly, a couple lurching drunkenly up the street in their direction. "Okay, I get that," he said. "Daniel, let him help. He's from the coven."

"How did he escape?"

"Our coven leader has been trying to get us free for weeks," Keith stated quickly, injecting himself into the conversation. "He was able to overcome the wizard's spell on a few of us. He then gave us this…" pulling aside his collar to reveal an intricately woven medallion of silver, iron and copper attached to a thin, silver chain. Eyeing the two men, he said, "I'm here to help."

"He knocked out the guy attacking me," Joel added.

Keith reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. As he started to twist the top off, Daniel took a defensive step back.

"Wait!" Daniel pulled his own bottle from his sling. He wasn't ready to trust anything this man had, potion-wise, just yet. He would put his faith in Adam. "I've got this."

Keith took the bottle, pulled the stopper and quickly sniffed. Eyes widening, he murmured, "Excellent." Rapidly he dropped some of the potion onto Daniel's bruises and cuts before restoppering the bottle and handing it back.

Adam stepped forward and felt along Daniel's arm, flexing the elbow. "It's not broken, though I imagine it feels like crap."

"I'll be fine," Daniel muttered, his eyes focused down the darkened road they'd just traversed. "Let's get this show on the road."

"You need to get to the park soon," Joel stated. He glanced at the luminous dial on his watch, "twenty-five minutes and counting."

"The park?" Keith echoed, his eyes wide. "That's where…"

"Yes," Adam said softly. "We know."

Joel eyed Keith and asked bluntly, "Do you want to come with us or stay here?"

Keith straightened his shoulders and said, "I'm coming."

"It's going to be a fight," Joel warned.

"My coven, we protect people," Keith interrupted. "It's our calling. And now my people, this town's people, are either under a spell or their loved ones are being threatened and held hostage. I want…" he broke off, shaking his head slightly, "no, I _need_ to help."

Daniel nodded. "Then let's get going." He could see three people running in their direction.

Joel and Adam started pulling the unconscious men out from under the wheels of the Tourer.

"Adam," Joel said, pulling his sling from the front seat of the vehicle. "You've got the van. Get in and get going. When we hit Kansas Street, you go left and head to the park. We'll continue straight into downtown."

"Elijah said someone talked about a Watcher," Daniel said. "They'll be protected."

"The Watchers are at the Community Center," Keith said.

"Watchers, plural?" Daniel clarified, his brows raised in question.

Keith nodded. "There are three."

"The whole team will be heading there too," Joel stated. "Let's not be the last ones on the scene."

**.**

Sam felt the concussive power of the explosion as he hovered in the shadows near the park. A moment later he felt the overpressure from the blast rush around him, almost knocking him down. Turning, he saw the reddish golden flames rising over the Midway Co-Op Station walls from the southern edge of town. Adam, he thought. Smiling slightly, he turned and looked through the shrubs and bushes into the park. The Tree was magnificent. Even through the darkness and from this distance, he could see the rich green of the leaves and burnished brown of the trunk. But it was the fruit that caught his eyes. Egg shaped points of luminescence were scattered among the leaves and branches. Though he figured the fruit wouldn't glow during the daylight hours, the faint incandescence in the dark of night was alluring. He couldn't tell their exact color, but a faint rubiness in the glow told him they were probably red.

He could see four robed figures standing around the Tree, and wondered the reason for their presence. The spell line glowed around the trunk, indicating a containment or binding spell of some kind. Why would there need to be people as well? Was Piruz somehow using humans as a battery for the spell line? There were another eight people kneeling several feet from the circle. From their figures and body language Sam could tell they were women, though he didn't want to reach out psychically for confirmation. Such an action might give away his position. Yes, Piruz already knew they were there. He would be hard pressed not to, with the explosions. But Sam didn't plan on pointing himself out.

Sidling slightly to avoid the dwindling light of Adam's fireball, he glanced down at his watch. One minute, then Joshua would throw magic into the park and Caleb would race in from the north, and he would come in from the east. Caleb had suggested Dean delay his own entrance for a further two or three minutes. He and Sam were certain Piruz thought Dean was still trapped in Eden, and he wanted to use the surprise that Dean had escaped to their advantage.

Sam's gaze went to the northern edge of the park. Any second now…

.

Cadmael climbed gingerly to his feet. The explosion had almost knocked him out of his shoes. Turning, he stared in the direction of the town's southern entrance and couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. Eruptions of spells had risen all around Lebanon, signaling that help had come at last. Touching the wall of the Co-Op Filling Station to steady himself, he continued in the direction of the park. That was where the wizard would be working, that was where he needed to be stopped. Suddenly, he froze. Just up ahead he saw a man standing in the shadows watching the park. When the man abruptly jerked around and stared in his direction, Cadmael shielded his mind. The man had sensed his presence, thus confirming there were psychics among these rescuers. Eventually the man turned back around to face the park, and Cadmael relaxed.

Dropping to his knees, he drew a protection circle around himself and pulled a small packet from his pocket. Quickly he emptied a couple of powders into a small, wooden bowl. Murmuring softly, he added a bit of water, then touched the surface of the mixture with a small, narrow wand. A misty light drifted up from the bowl and hovered in midair. Eyes darting back and forth, he slowly smiled. In addition to the man directly in front of him, he detected three other men at the northern end of the park. He was just about to douse the spell when he spotted another figure moving quickly along the southern end. His body slumped slightly as the tension of the last month or so was released under the knowledge that he had sufficient help for the task. He didn't know who they were, but he was more grateful than he could say. In his heart he knew that very soon, his people would be free once more.

Gently he touched the side of the bowl and the mist lowered and curled back within the wooden depths. Another few words and the misty smoke disappeared. Carefully he placed the things back inside his pocket and rose, breaking the circle. For almost a minute he stared out into the park, debating his next move. There'd been a sense of power and magic from those surrounding the park. Nodding to himself, he turned and started jogging back to town. He was needed elsewhere.

**.**

Ethan, Elijah and Onida headed up Chicago, cautiously approaching a small, unnamed rural back alley just behind the Building and Loan Office as they neared Main. Ethan stared behind them, checking for anyone approaching. It hadn't taken as long as he'd expected to dispatch their aggressors, and that worried him. They stopped near a cluster of mangy trees alongside a small deserted home.

"You think we just had the duds?" Elijah asked, his eyes focused down the street they'd just traversed. He was uncomfortable with how quickly they'd dispatched their opponents as well.

"Guess it's possible," Ethan mused. But he'd been expecting a much more aggressive fight from their attackers.

"Couldn't it just be because they weren't trained and you were?" Onida suggested quietly.

"Unlikely." Ethan also looked behind them. "They should have fought a lot harder because they're under a spell."

"Maybe the other incursions shook them up," Elijah offered weakly, sounding like even he didn't believe that.

Onida gave a small nod. "The explosion in the south was pretty impressive."

"Something's off," Ethan declared.

Elijah nodded. Pointing, he said, "I'm going to check down the alley." He blew some spell dust into the air. After a moment, he quickly disappeared through the trees into the darkness.

Ethan looked to Onida. "Can you feel anyone coming?"

Onida's eyes widened. "I'm not psychic."

"Auras," Ethan clarified. "See if you can feel auras other than our own."

Onida nearly kicked herself. Of course Ethan meant auras. This was the first really big hunt she'd been on since taking on the Tah-tah-kle'-ah in Washington, and that had been during the full light of day. This skulking around in the dark, fighting townspeople under a spell and going against a wizard of extreme skill was unnerving. Leaning back against a tree, she closed her eyes and focused on human energy in their area. Immediately she found six people coming in their direction from across the street. Eyes popping open, Onida hissed, "Call back Elijah! Six incoming…" she pointed to the figures coming into focus across the street, "there!"

"Eli!" Ethan called out, not bothering to keep his voice down. These people already knew they were here anyway.

Elijah came running back just as the small mob hit the street. "Oh, this looks exciting." Pulling two pouches from his sling, he hurled them into the center of the cluster. The spell bags hit a block and dropped, spilling their fumes out into the night. "Damn it."

Ethan grabbed Onida and pulled. "Head for Main!" Retreating would only give him an extra minute to think, but he would take it.

Ethan, Onida and Elijah turned and began running full out toward Main Street, hoping for more cover than a tree; hoping JT, James and Max were nearby.

**.**

Joshua knelt just inside the edge of the park, the willowy trees and paltry bushes offering scant cover. Darkness was their only true friend tonight, as no moon rose in the sky. His hands were almost a blur as he worked to prepare several spells. The spell for the Tree had already been completed and the spell bags were ready to use when the time came. Now he was working on spells to take on Piruz. Quickly he drew three Triad symbols and began placing ingredients by each one.

When he, Dean, Caleb and Sam had conferred about this battle, they all agreed that Triad power would be their best weapon.

"The spell pouches are powerful," Dean had said, "but it's Triad magic that'll take this guy down. That means you're our ace-in-the-hole."

"Caleb had a knife to his throat," Joshua pointed out.

"I got lucky," Caleb said.

"No," Dean countered. "You're damn good. But you got close enough to take him out, and that's going to make him less arrogant this time around."

"He's not going to let any of us get close," Sam concurred.

"We overwhelm him with our individual skills," Caleb said, "then Joshua lets loose Triad power."

"He knows about Joshua from the hotel," Sam reminded them.

"But he doesn't know what Triad power can do," Dean stated. "The Brotherhood Triad has had centuries of knowledge to build on, just like this guy. We can take him."

Thus Joshua was preparing the most powerful spells he knew using Triad magic. None of them were straight forward; all were built on the wealth of knowledge from the past Triads and tailored to the unique skills and talents of this one. Each spell was one Joshua had used before, though this would be the first time he would use them together in one battle. But he was prepared to make that happen. Piruz needed to be stopped, and he had every confidence his Triad was the one to do it. He only prayed he had strength enough for the task.

Ryker studied his every move, not speaking, not asking any questions lest he divert Joshua's attention. Instead, he watched his mentor with an eagle eye, taking in every action made. This was magic he rarely experienced and had never used, and he wanted to remember each and every move.

Standing near the edge of the park, Caleb watched Piruz gather his supplies. None of them had spoken since leaving the car minutes before, not wanting to alert the wizard to their presence. The incursions into Lebanon were a diversion, a good one. The explosions and commotion would split the wizard's concentration. But Caleb knew Piruz planned on meeting them here in the park; he would expect nothing less from Merlin's Warriors. Caleb had no intention of disappointing him.

Sam would be in position already. Dean was either already at the southern end, or nearly there. While a good size park for a Midwest town, it wasn't large enough to pose an issue to get around for the Guardian.

He glanced down at this watch. One more minute.

**.**

Piruz whirled around and stared toward the southern end of the town, anger and rage burning inside. A third incursion into this small hamlet. Merlin's Warriors had more help than he'd anticipated. When, through the centuries, had others aided Merlin's Chosen in their quest? Yet there was no doubt this generation was utilizing others in their battle. These Chosen would assuredly be a disappointment to Merlin had the mage been alive now. They could not confront him without bringing resources. Snorting softly to himself, he grabbed his bag and pulled out the last of his ingredients. Turning to the women kneeling nearby, he barked, "Convenite huc!" _(Come here.)_

The women rose as one and hurried to his side. Approaching the bubble in the circle nearest him, Piruz murmured an incantation, closing the inner side of the circle. Then with a raised hand, he made an opening in the bubble, grabbed one of the women and shoved her, screaming, inside.

Two of the other women turned to run while one fell to the ground in terror. Piruz raised a hand and flicked his fingers, commanding, "Maneat ligant," _(Bind and stay.) _and the fleeing two froze where they stood. Turning, Piruz started for the southern side of his binding circle around the Tree, ordering, "Veni." The three remaining women turned and followed with trembling lips, and tears watering their cheeks.

Moving rapidly around the circle, Piruz deposited one women in each of the bubbles beside the hooded men. More bursts of spells sounded in the distant, but Piruz kept his mind on his work. Once it was completed, Merlin's Warriors would be unable to stop the chaos that followed.

Kneeling, Piruz closed his eyes and centered himself. Moving quickly, he passed his hand over the solid golden bowl and began to speak. Without looking, he reached for the bottle furthest on his left and added the pre-measured ingredients to his bowl. Speaking the entire time, he opened readied vials and small containers, his magic stirring and mixing the potion. As the ingredients heated, gold from the bowl would peel from the sides of the container and mix with the potion, intensifying the spell. He could sense commotion in the town, and knew the protection spells had been diminished. Foolish woman, he thought idly. He should never have put her in charge of maintaining the lines. He could feel her potion from here, and knew she was attempting to restore the lines. It did not matter. He would finish by the time she succeeded, and those opposed to the new hierarchy would bow to his rule or be put to death. Their choice.

Carefully he placed the ingredients in the potion and stirred, continued his incantation. He could feel the Chaos Spell taking shape. The pairs in the bubbles at the circle were kneeling, back bowed in pain as the binding spell was stretched to accommodate the new power. As the last ingredient went into the potion, Piruz stood slowly to his feet, his arms raised. "tartafie alfawdaa , tartafie al'ardu. 'atlaqat alsultat alqadimat aleanan." _(Chaos rises, the ground heaves. Ancient power unleashed.)_ Snapping his fingers, fire appeared and he dropped it into the bowl. "quat altabieat tasmae nida'i , tatie kilmati. alsama' wal'ard tanhni liamrti wataharuri. _(Nature's power hear my call, obey my words. Heaven and earth bow to my command and release…)_

Power hit him from behind, knocking him forward and off balance. It was only with a great deal of effort that he missed knocking over his potion bowl, thereby maintaining the integrity of his spell ingredients. Whirling around, he was just able to put up a barrier before the tall Warrior with the powerful mind could use his power to seize his throat.

Caleb swaggered through the park, his Dragon's Talon in one hand, the shield Dean had given him in the other. "Did you think we'd miss the party?"

Piruz turned and smiled. "Grata eques auratus. Exspectabam te." _(Welcome, Knight. I was expecting you.)_

"Volo autem vos volo, non erubescam." _(I wouldn't want to disappoint.)_

Taking a step around his potion, Piruz lifted an arm to point to the Tree. "Chaos," he said. "Chaos will reign."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Caleb hissed, and with a swing Dean would have been proud of, he fast-balled a spell bag straight at Piruz.

.

TBC

_Author's Notes: Thank you summerbl21, bingos-gal, Shazza19 and my Guest for your terrific reviews! They totally make me grin._

_To Shazza19 on Anzac Day: #lestweforget._


	27. Chapter 27

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 27

.

Piruz stumbled as the spell hit him, not from the front where the Knight stood, but from the side. Whirling, he saw the Teacher moving with lithe grace across the field from the east, the town providing a backdrop to his approach. He smiled. While the spell pouch had given him a jolt, it certainly was not strong enough to stop him. "Bonum conatus," he called. _(Nice effort.)_

Sam knew Piruz was centuries down this road and that it wouldn't make a difference, but he tried anyway. "Hoc prohibere," he called. _(Stop this.)_

Piruz held up a hand to block a spell Caleb had just thrown. Murmuring under his breath, he retaliated. The Knight countered with the Dragon's Talon, and the spell was deflected. To Sam, he shouted, "Tui testamentum meum erit. Et honorificabis me, et adorabunt me, et eritis mihi militibus." _(You will be mine. You will honor me, worship me, and be my guard.)_

Caleb caught most of what Piruz was saying, and snorted. "Not likely." Palming another two spell bags, he threw them hard and fast. They broke about three feet from the wizard, causing him to rock back on his heels. Joshua was right; Piruz had taken greater precautions after their last encounter, and was now using protection similar to theirs. The question was, could they get around it?

Piruz righted himself almost immediately. "Non satis est, Bellator." _(Not good enough, Warrior.)_ Turning, he dropped something into the bowl directly behind him, and a bolt of energy surged around the circle, eliciting screams and shrieks from those inside the bubbles.

"Stop!" Sam shouted, his eyes going to the circle. The four women inside the bubbles had all fallen to the ground, writhing. Yet the men remained motionless and on their feet, their hooded heads bowed.

Though he knew it would be useless, Caleb threw three spell bags at the circle.

"Is mos non operari," Piruz stated with a smile. "Non potes perdere circulus, Bellator. Ego potest tantum ille qui áuferant eam. Et in opere complere." _(It will not work, Warrior. You cannot destroy the circle. I am the only one who can remove the line. The spell will be completed.)_

Growling in frustration, Caleb threw another spell. It wouldn't damage Piruz, but maybe it would distract him long enough for Joshua to work a Triad spell. If they could keep the wizard preoccupied and focused on them, maybe Joshua could take him down. Triad power was strong, and it might be the only true weapon they had.

Sam sidled forward while Piruz was occupied with Caleb. As he reached into his sling, the wizard spun in his direction. Yanking out three spell bags, he hurled them in Piruz's direction.

The pouches hit near Piruz, knocking him back several feet. Face set, the witch marshaled his power in retaliation. Straightening, he called on his massive magical experience and shouted, "altabieat , tanhni li'iiradati , walzalam li'amrat!" _(Nature, bow to my will; darkness to my command!)_

Sam stumbled and went to his knees, but did not get thrown. Caleb hunched down behind the shield Dean had crafted for him, glanced around at where Joshua and Ryker were concealed near the trees and smiled.

When the dust cleared, Piruz blinked in surprise as Sam rose to his feet, shield in hand. Never had this spell failed him. Suddenly he growled in fury; the witch. Whirling, he stared into the tree line, but did not see anyone. Another spell bag hit him, and he hurled another couple of spells, the first at warrior and the second at the teacher.

Caleb stumbled and returned fire. When a renewed barrage of spells was hurled in his direction, his grip tightened on his silver shield as the Dragon's Talon countered every attack.

Sam dodged the spell thrown in his direction and quickened his pace, edging closer to Piruz. He threw another spell bag, which hit a few feet from the wizard. The spell mist rose and hung inches from Piruz, unable to go further around the wizard's protective spell. Looking at Caleb, he asked, _How can we take him down?_

_Not sure,_ Caleb thought back. _He's better protected than in New York_.

Sam frowned. According to Dean, at least twice before Brotherhood Triad's had stopped Piruz from activating the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. But Piruz's fluency in Latin indicated that was a few centuries ago. Could the wizard have learned so much magic during the ensuing centuries that taking him down now was impossible? He refused to believe it. He threw another spell pouch while glancing at the Tree and the people harnessed to the circle. Only the taller figures were still facing the Tree. The women lay unmoving on the ground.

Piruz threw more spells at the Teacher, then several larger spells at the Warrior. Turning, he merely smiled at the resulting explosions, knowing they hadn't taken down Merlin's two. Stepping to his bowl, he murmured, "han alwaqt li'iinha' hadha." _(Time for this to end.) _Leaning down, he quickly emptied a small cup of powder into the potion, then poured in a small vial of liquid. Another few spells hit his protection and he felt his spell wobble. He didn't have much time before his personal shield spell collapsed and he would need to fight in earnest. Moving a hand over the bowl, he began a rapid incantation.

Caleb hunkered down behind his shield, his mind turning over their predicament. Piruz hadn't worn protection spells before. So either his appreciation for their skills had increased - something he highly doubted, considering the man's ego - or he needed to take some action to finish the Chaos Spell and didn't want to be distracted. All evidence and their experience of the wizard pointed to the latter.

As the barrage of spells lessened, he leaned around his shield to see Piruz kneeling beside a bowl, and Caleb knew that would be the final phase for Chaos Spell. They'd only been in the park a minute or two, but it seemed like so much longer. Now he was regretting his decision to take on Piruz before Joshua was completely ready. He had counted on Piruz's arrogance and hubris in needing to best them in battle to give Joshua time to finish his own spells. Now, what they needed was a distraction.

Suddenly his eyes lifted and he smiled. While he, Sam and Piruz had been occupied, Dean was ghosting across the park toward the wizard, using the darkness as cover. Distraction? Check.

**.**

The Community Center was dark save for a single room down the narrow, shabby hall. Faded light shone out through the doorway, and a firm voice sounded from within. "Use the clear quartz followed by psilomelance and morrisonite," ordered the older woman, working furiously. The town of Lebanon was under siege from all directions. The explosion from the southern end had rocketed through the Community Center, knocking pictures off the wall and sending table-toppers onto the floor. She heard the glass case holding community memorabilia shatter as it fell in the entryway. The protection lines needed to be restored immediately.

Together she, the older man and the young woman worked over their bowls, adding the ingredients in unison as the older woman murmured an incantation. Their hands were moving in unison, exactly duplicating one another's movements.

"Add the lazulite," the woman said. "Blocking the psychics is necessary to continue to rebuild the protection lines."

The older man and the young woman followed her orders, adding a silvery-blue powder to their potion and continuing to move their hands above the bowls.

Suddenly light flared up from the potion in the older woman's bowl. Nimbly it leapt from her bowl to the old man's, then to the younger woman's and back again, creating a circle of light. Outside in the streets, the protection spell lines resurged, overcoming the dampening spell and exploding with life.

Smiling, the older woman regarded the other two. "Well done. Now back to your posts." As she bent back over her bowl, the other two gathered their bowls and supplies and quietly left the room.

**.**

JT, James and Max jogged past the Lebanon United Methodist Church on their way to the center of the town. It hadn't been easy getting past the posse on the northern end of town, but Max taking on several fighters from the rear with JT and James flanking them in front, meant the townspeople had been overwhelmed. The three managed to subdue most of them with spells or sleeping powder, though a few sustained more serious wounds.

James had picked the lock on the equipment shed at the High School, and they'd placed several women inside, using ropes and whatever else they could find to bind their hands and feet. For the men, they chained them inside Joe's Service Station. A few of the townspeople had escaped, but not many.

Now they were moving quickly, passing dark houses and empty buildings toward the town center. Looking over his shoulder, James asked in a hushed tone, "Shouldn't there be more townspeople coming after us?"

Max spared the younger man a quick glance. "Probably will be once we reach the town center."

"Maybe they're protecting their Watcher," JT said.

"And preventing us from heading to the park," Max added.

"Chicago Avenue up ahead," JT murmured. His eyes darted from left to right, trying to see any movement in the darkness. "Looks clear, but I wouldn't bet on that." Gingerly he massaged his right arm, which ached in pain from the spell.

Max looked him over. "You all right?"

JT nodded immediately. "Just aches. Onida can look at it later."

Instead of answering, Max moved up and took a position slightly in front of JT, gun in hand. There was a dark house on the north-western side of the street. The three of them crouched in the shadows of the trees clustered in the corner of the yard, studying the streets.

"Shouldn't there be someone guarding the street?" James asked softly, looking up and down the east-west running Chicago. He didn't trust this apparent calm. The witch was fanatical in his intention to take over the country. Why would he have such minimal protections on Lebanon?

"There is," JT murmured. He pointed south down Main Street. For just a moment, a head had briefly appeared at the top of a building half way down the block.

Max nudged both brothers and made a motion to look further down. A shadow moved in an alley. "They're taking the high ground. There are people on the rooftops and probably all up the alleys along Main."

"They're guarding the Community Center," James murmured. "You see anyone else?"

Max knew James was asking about their teams coming in from the east and the south. He shook his head. "No one; not yet." Casing the area, he suddenly pointed to a small alley barely visible in the darkness, threading behind a house on the western side of Main. Turning, he looked to the left and saw a similar dark shadow indicating a back alley behind the buildings on the left side of Main. He pointed to JT and the alley on the right. "We'll take the other side."

JT didn't like the idea of them splitting up, but knew they'd be within a block of one another, and nodded. Rising and bent low, he moved through the trees until he was directly across from the alley, then he crossed the street and disappeared.

Max nodded to James. After looking both ways, then started across the street. At the corner of Chicago and Main, Max motioned for James to wait as he moved along the side of the building. He listened for a moment, then took a sharp look around the corner. Slowly he reached into his pocket for his spell dust when suddenly a flash of hot bright light flared up from the ground itself, blinding him with its intensity. When his vision cleared, he whirled around to find James lying face down on the sidewalk, unmoving.

**.**

Elijah was first around the corner onto Main when suddenly his body jolted and seized like he'd been hit with electricity, and he went down.

"Eli!" Ethan cried frantically, though he froze where he stood, staring at this unconscious brother.

Onida pulled energy into her palm and tossed it near where Elijah lay. The energy crackled against a protection line. Eyes wide, she pooled golden energy into both her hands and threw it into the street. Protection lines lit up like a Disney parade, crisscrossing the road. "This Watcher person got the protection lines back up."

"Yeah," Ethan growled. A quick look behind him showed that the restoration of the protection lines seemed to have surprised their pursuers as well. They had stopped their approach and were milling around, apparently attempting to regroup. Maybe the Watcher or Piruz hadn't given everyone protection. But he could see someone attempting to restore some sort of order, and knew they only had seconds. Turning to Onida, he asked urgently, "Can you do anything?"

"Yes," Onida replied staunchly. Stepping forward, she closed her eyes and focused on the bentonite clay infused all through the earth. Turning her attention to the volcanic ash saturating the ground soil, she ignited it with her red energy. The bentonite clay and ash burned together, and she used her energy to connect them with the magical ley lines running beneath the town. When she could feel the clay expanding and reaching out, she knew it was on a course that couldn't be stopped. Opening her eyes, she stumbled to the side, exhausted. Only Ethan's strong grip kept her from falling. He shoved something into her hand and she looked down and was surprised to see a power bar.

"Caleb," Ethan supplied. Turning to his twin, he murmured, "How soon?" He'd barely finished getting the words out when the ground rumbled beneath his feet.

"Not long," Onida said, tearing open the power bar and taking a gigantic bite. Chewing, she looked back down the street to the pursuing group of townspeople. "I hope soon enough."

**.**

Adam stood on the sideboard of the van and blew potion dust down the street. Most of the protection lines here were clustered near the left side of the street. If he stayed right and close to the curb, he would be able to drive without a problem.

"You should be fine if you stay on the right," Joel said.

Adam nodded. Daniel and Keith had crossed the street and were now standing near the corner of Kansas and Main, keeping watch.

"Just stop before you hit Walnut and use the dust again." Smiling suddenly, Joel looked down and shook his head. "Sorry. You made the dust; you know all this."

Nodding, Adam said, "It's always good to hear again." He liked that Joel and Daniel were concerned about his welfare. Who would have thought that after years of having so few friends, he would find a wealth of them in an organization he had once dismissed as beneath him. Life was odd like that.

Joel gave a soft chuckle and nodded. "Then we'll see you when this scuffle is finished."

Adam grinned; he couldn't help it. Only hunters would call an extremely powerful witch attempting to create chaos all across the country a _scuffle_. Taking a chance on these new friendships, he tendered, "I'm buying the first round."

Joel grinned. "You're on." Giving Adam a small salute, he turned and ran over to where Daniel and Keith were waiting. After what looked like a word or two, he slipped around the corner, Keith on his heels. Daniel turned to Adam and gave him a short wave before following.

Adam climbed inside the Tourer and turned left onto Kansas Street, angling the van to the right side of the road. It was odd to be feeling regret and a sense of aloneness. He'd only just met those two men, yet he found himself uneasy about leaving them to make their sole assault on the town center. Of course, they weren't truly alone. Keith was with them now, and if all turned out correctly, JT's and Ethan's teams would be there as well. Though he felt like he was deserting them, he had a job to do, as had they. They had a rendezvous at the Community Center, Joshua needed him in the park.

Taking a visual sweep of the street for _hostiles_, as Ryker would say, he put the car in gear and pressed down on the accelerator. As he picked up speed, he kept a watchful eye on the sidewalks. He wasn't naive enough to think that there would be no one watching the western edges of town. They would have spell bags and…

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light all around, and the Tourer slammed into something solid right in the middle of the street, and a blueish glare burst across his vision. The sounds of crunching metal and shattering glass filled his ears as the rear of the vehicle was lifted completely off the ground, throwing him forward against the steering wheel. The right rear of the van shifted to the right as though the front end had hit a diagonal fence slanted across the road. The wheels spun, and the Tourer flipped onto its side and slid a couple of feet before lying still.

**.**

"James!" Max exclaimed softly. "Shit!" Rummaging in his jacket, he pulled a small ziplock bag from his pocket. Opening it, he pinched some powder and blew it into the air. The street lit up like a neon checkerboard. "Damn it," he muttered. All around James were lines of a protection spell. Only the tip of one foot was outside the light. "All right, let's see if I can get you out." Making sure he was in the clear, Max knelt down on the hard cement sidewalk, grasped James' booted toe and pulled.

**.**

Dean was bent low, moving across the grass with the silent grace of a panther. He wanted to make his entrance as surprising as possible, though he knew he wouldn't get too close before Piruz sensed his presence. When a flare of light flashed in his peripheral vision, he knew instinctively that the zombie-coven had reignited the protection spells. He worried for, not only his sons and godson, but for all the teams in town. He hoped no one had been caught in a spell, but knew that was unlikely. Someone was down, he felt it.

His eyes went to Sam on his right, and ahead to Caleb. He knew Caleb had seen him, and that the older man was attempting to keep the wizard occupied. Piruz was being protected by a spell of some kind, probably like the ones they were wearing. He really hoped they hadn't given him the idea, though he would have thought Piruz was too arrogant to stoop to wearing protection. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flask of water. Slowing down, he dropped into a crouch and poured some water in his hand. Closing his eyes, he focused and shaped the water into a double-pronged, three-pointed throwing star. Focusing again, the words _In Dei Nomine_ appeared on the silver stars. He knew of no other words so powerful, especially for one from Piruz's background, than calling upon power in the Name of God. If anything could get through the wizard's protection, it would be this.

After making six stars, he pocketed four and rose again. Still bent low, he jogged forward, attention laser-focused on Piruz. He would be able to tell the moment the wizard became aware of his existence.

Caleb nodded to Sam, then threw two spell pouches at the same time Sam threw three. The concussive force of the combined spells knocked Piruz off balance. The wizard fell against the protection circle and dropped to his knees.

Pushing himself up, Piruz gathered his strength and threw a barrage of spells at the Warrior before pivoting and unleashing a dozen at the Teacher.

Caleb whipped the silver shield up in front of him and let the Guardian's protection take the brunt of the barrage. Though he knew his Dragon's Talon could have deflected the spell power, he wanted to conserve his strength.

Sam felt the spells slam against his own shield, and he rocked back on his heels. He hoped Dean would make his move soon. Piruz wouldn't stay distracted forever.

In that indefinable way Dean seemed to always know what Sam was thinking, the Guardian of the Brotherhood suddenly stood as though rising from the darkness itself, reared back and threw the two throwing stars with deadly accuracy.

Piruz whirled as though sensing danger. The stars hit his protection spell, slowed minutely, then plowed right on through. The slowing, however, was just enough for him to dodge to the side. One star went sailing past, while the other imbedded itself in his shoulder. "Aurrgghh!" he cried as he stumbled to the side. Searching the darkness, he saw suddenly saw Merlin's Child silhouetted against the night, shining silver in his hands. His eyes widened in shocked surprise. "Vos…" Stepping forward as though unable to stop himself, he said again, "Vos!" How had this happened? No one had ever escaped the alternate place before. How was this possible?

Dean regarded the wizard, satisfied he'd shocked the witch, and taking advantage of the opportunity to move slowly closer.

"Quomodo effugere?" Piruz shouted, a hand to his bleeding shoulder, anger quickly replacing his surprise. "Effugium non potest!" _(How did you escape? Escape is impossible!)_

Dean frowned, taking a moment to translate what Piruz had said. When he translated _effugium_, he knew. "Obviously not," he said, holding out his arms.

Whether Piruz understood the English or not, Dean's raising his arms in an obvious _Well, I'm here_, gesture was very clear. Piruz bared his teeth, muttered two words and threw a massive spell.

The star in Dean's left hand instantly transformed into a shield before even a thought crossed his mind. The spell slammed into the shield, knocking him back about ten feet.

Reaching up, Piruz yanked the star from his shoulder. At his touch, the star melted away into water as he shouted, "Veni huc!" _(Come here!)_

The four remaining women kneeling about ten feet away near the protection line around the Tree rose hastily.

"Sta in circulo praesidium," _(Stand in a protection circle.) _Piruz snarled, and the woman stood around him, one facing the north, two facing Sam, and the fourth facing south.

"Son of a…" Dean griped, watching as Piruz used the women as a shield.

Caleb's anger rose. Closing his eyes, he focused on the woman facing him, and reached out psychically. If he could stimulate the pineal glade, he hoped it would make her fall asleep. It was different than using his Darth Vader skills, as Dean called them, but along the same principle. Closing his eyes, he excited the gland, and the woman wobbled.

"Stare recta," Piruz snapped. _(Stand straight)_

Caleb pushed a little harder, and the woman yawned, then dropped where she formerly stood.

A moment later a wave of power rippled across the park like a shroud, and the other three women stumbled into one another, then dropped to the ground, motionless. Piruz's head jerked up as he stared north into the trees.

Caleb glanced back and scowled. If he'd known Joshua was going to do that, he wouldn't have wasted his own energy.

Joshua stepped out from the tree line and stood, his hands raised.

"Mage," Piruz snarled. Quickly he whirled and dropped two last ingredients into his potion as a massive spell bombarded his magical protection.

"No," Dean muttered, running forward while throwing two more stars.

Sam rushed the east side while Caleb charged from the north, each throwing spells at the wizard.

Piruz stumbled as a star hit his back, but he was smiling. "'atlaquu quat al'ard walnujum walsama'a!" _(Release the power of earth, stars and heaven!) _The earth rumbled, and Piruz stared down. The very grass of the park was rippling. Eyes widening, he threw a small crystal into the bowl and shouted, "'iitlaq sarah!" _(Release!)_ As the ground heaved just as light and fire exploded from the bowl, swirling like a flaming ribbon around the binding circle to the Tree, and the spell dropped like the curtain on a stage.

**.**

Onida and Ethan grabbed onto the sides of the building, trying to keep their footing as the ground rumbled. The sidewalk cracked and they stumbled to the side.

"You started an earthquake?" Ethan inquired, his surprise evident.

"No, not really," Onida protested defensively as she tried to keep her footing. In her rush to free Elijah, she realized she may have gone a bit overboard. "I just used the bentonite clay to purify the earth and the volcanic ash to speed it along. The clay does expand some…"

Ethan laughed. Pulling a baggie from his pocket, he took a pinch of powder and blew it into the air. The protective lines near Elijah were broken. "See if you can slow them down," he said, nodding in the direction of the townspeople fast approaching their location. As Onida turned, he cautiously moved forward until he could touch Elijah's foot. When he could do that without getting zapped, he scrambled forward just as another man dropped to his knees from the opposite side and closed a hand over Elijah's wrist. Instantly Ethan's gun was in the air.

"Whoa," the man breathed, dropping Elijah's hand immediately and rocking back on his heels. "I'm here to help."

"Help, as in take us down with magic lines, or hit us with spells?" Ethan snarled. "Back off."

The man scurried back a couple feet, saying, "I'm part of the coven, but I'm not under the wizard's spell anymore. I was freed by my coven leader a couple weeks ago. We've been trying to free more people, but it's been difficult."

Onida rounded the corner and pulled up short. "Who's he?"

"Said he's a freed coven member," Ethan said, pulling Elijah into his arms. Quickly he touched the pulse at his brother's neck. After a moment, he said, "Slow and irregular."

"Let me in," Onida demanded.

"The people?"

"They're fighting their way past an energy boar at the moment," Onida stated, dropping to her knees.

Ethan frowned and leaned out slightly into the street to peek around the corner. "Nice," he murmured when he saw a large, dark, semi-translucent form of energy charging the townspeople, who were scattering in all directions.

Onida closed her eyes and focused on healing Elijah. His heart had been damaged by the protection line, and he had sustained burns across his body. She had to fight away her anger in order to infuse Elijah's body with healing light. That these people set up the lines to kill was outrageous. Finally, Elijah stirred, groaning slightly.

"Eli?" Ethan murmured, leaning over his twin.

"Ugh," Elijah coughed, then moaned. Opening his eyes, they darted around a moment before settling on Ethan. A small smile crossed his face and he murmured, "That hurt."

Ethan grinned, though his eyes were suspiciously moist. "Yeah. You really scared me, you big nerd; charging around corners."

"Hey, I didn't know the lines were back up," Elijah protested, struggling to push himself up. "And not a nerd," he muttered waspishly.

"The Watcher did it," said the man kneeling a few feet away. His eyes went to Onida. "Are you all right?"

After using so much energy, Onida had dropped down on the sidewalk and was leaning against the building, her eyes closed.

Ethan swiveled around and dug in his pocket, pulling out another power bar and handing it over. "Here, eat this."

"Come," said the man kneeling a few feet away. "Come. We've been using the basement of City Hall as a shelter. It's been warded against detection. There is a side door down the next alley, so we should be able to get there without being seen by those watching the Community Center. We can rest there, let your friend recover and get you some water."

Though the thought of water was music to his ears, Ethan nodded only reluctantly. He didn't know this man, and was reluctant about putting faith in him. Still, he helped Elijah to his feet, then turned to assist Onida. A quick glance back around the corner showed the energy surge Onida had created was dissolving and the townspeople were regrouping. "Come on," he urged. If they were going to do this, they should get to it before they had company.

Slinging Elijah's arm over his shoulder, he checked to make sure Onida was directly behind him, he hurried into the nearby alley, and saw an open door about half way down. Ducking inside the building, he followed the man to a stairwell. He would rather have taken the elevator, but the noise would have been too much of an attention grabber. Carefully he supported his twin down the stairs.

Onida followed the three men, grasping the handrail tightly, as she didn't want to fall. She needed rest, she knew it. But this engagement was far from over. If she couldn't get rest, she would need to solider on.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder. As though he could read her mind, he said, "Onida?"

Smiling, Onida said, "Just need a bit of rest, then we can get going."

Frowning, Ethan merely nodded in response. Onida had used a tremendous amount of energy so far. They would need to figure out another plan before continuing.

"In here." The man of mystery had a door open in the basement.

Ethan helped Elijah inside, then smiled when he saw two sofas, a leather recliner, and a small refrigerator. As he lowered Elijah onto one couch, he pointed to the second and said, "Onida?"

Onida slid gratefully onto the cushioned surface and slowly lowered her head down, closing her eyes. She could hear movement in the small room, and Ethan talking quietly with Elijah.

"Here," said a voice.

Opening her eyes, she saw the man from outside holding out a bottle of water. He cracked the lid to show it was sealed, and handed it over. Eagerly, she took the bottle, removed the lid and drank deeply. She could feel some energy returning with the sustaining power of hydration. When she finally lowered the bottle, she smiled and asked, "Who are you?"

"William Pressman." He held out a hand and shook hers.

"You're a member of the protection coven?"

Pressman's brows rose. "You know we specialize in protection?" When Onida nodded, he said, "I guess that's to be expected. We knew you were an experienced bunch."

"What happened, William?"

"Bill," William said. "I'm not quite sure. The last thing I remember was the coven meeting to discuss an unusual power we sensed in the area, then I woke up here."

Onida nodded, finding it interesting that William said he _woke up_ here in Lebanon.

"Our coven leader had broken the spell on me," William continued with a soft smile. "He's the most extraordinary man, has been practicing protection magics his entire life."

Ethan spun a wooden chair around near Onida's couch and sat down. He held an empty bottle of water in his hand. "I'm heading back outside, see if I can find the others. They were all converging on the town center. The protection lines went back up so fast, someone else might be in trouble."

William stood immediately even as Onida was struggling to sit. "I'll go with you," he said. "Though I live in Oberlin now, I grew up in Lebanon. I know the town like the back of my hand. We'll find your people."

"I'm ready," Onida said, finally achieving an upright position.

"Lay back down," Ethan ordered Onida. "Get some rest while you can." Turning, he studied the young man standing there, fidgeting. He looked to be somewhere around thirty, with a comfortable, handsome face, blond hair and a gangly body. He didn't inspire a lot of fighter confidence.

As though reading Ethan's mind, William suddenly smiled. "I know I'm not much to look at, but I'm scrappy, clever, somewhat devious and I know magic."

Ethan chuckled. "All right. Come, meet my brother." He took the young man over to Elijah, and introduced them. He left them talking a moment as he went back to Onida, who had yet to lie back down. "Come on, lie down," he told her. "This is a chance for you to recharge. There's a few sandwiches in the fridge, and I suggest you eat at least one. They appear to be fresh."

Onida watched Elijah talking with William, frowning.

Ethan glanced over his shoulder, then gave her a wry smile. "Elijah has the gift of truth telling. He'll know if William is lying about anything."

Onida's eyes jerked back to Ethan. "You think he's lying?"

Shaking his head, Ethan murmured, "No, not really. But I'm going outside into a hostile situation with someone I've just met ... who was involved with a powerful wizard who wants to send the country into chaos," he added. "I'd like to be certain."

"Ethan!"

The older twin turned around.

"If anyone else is injured, see if you can bring them here," Elijah said. It was his way of telling Ethan that William was on the up and up. "If Onida can, she'll heal them. If not, they can at least be out of the line of fire."

Ethan rose and nodded.

"If we can find my coven leader, he can heal as well," William said.

"Do you know where he is?" Elijah asked eagerly.

William shook his head. "No. I was supposed to watch the eastern edge of the town. Keith was stationed on the southern side and Elena on the north. He might have gone to the western side."

Ethan thought it was odd that William didn't know what his boss was doing, but decided not to pursue it. He was needed elsewhere. "Then let's go. You two," he pointed to Elijah and Onida, "Rest up. This thing ain't over yet."

**.**

Max pulled and heaved, and finally got James free of the protection lines. Breathing hard, he leaned over and touched the pulse at James' neck. Nothing. Shocked, he muttered frantically, "Nonononononono…" as he checked James' wrist. No pulse. Laying the younger man down flat on the sidewalk, he leaned down and began CPR. "Come on, Jimmy. You love dramatics, but this is just a bit much, okay?" Leaning down, he blew a long breath into James' mouth, then went back to frantically pumping at his chest. When the ground began to rumble, his hand went to the wall to steady himself while the paved slabs of cement that were the sidewalk rippled as the ground heaved underneath. Within seconds a large crack spiraled across the road and the building started to crumble. Immediately he threw himself across James to protect him from falling plaster. The quaking didn't last long, and when the shaking stopped, he felt James' pulse again. Heart stuttering in his throat, he quickly resumed his blowing and pumping, giving the street a desperate look. He needed help. Where was Onida? He needed Onida.

Just then, James gave a gasping breath as his heart lurched beneath Max's hand.

"Jimmy," Max murmured, leaning frantically over the younger man, a hand on James' white face. "Jimmy, say something … please."

James grimaced. His chest and lungs hurt; in fact, everything hurt.

"Jimmy…"

"Can I help?"

Max jerked at the soft female voice. Before the woman could react, he had a gun in her face. "Who're you?" he snarled. The woman had long brunette hair tied back in a ponytail, a narrow face with large dark eyes. At the moment, those eyes were widened in fear, though the woman appeared to be making a desperate effort to remain calm.

"I'm of the coven, though not under the wizard's control."

Max snorted in disbelief. "And how did _that_ happen?"

Taking the question with more genuineness than which it was delivered, she answered, "We were all under the wizard's spell until our coven leader set a few of us free. It was long, difficult work to subvert the magic of someone so powerful." Her eyes went to James. "Let me help."

Max eyed the woman warily. His instincts were telling him she wasn't a threat, but one couldn't always trust what was in front of them. Caleb had taught him that. Unfortunately, he wasn't in much of a position to look a gift horse in the mouth. They needed help. Lowering his gun only slightly, he asked, "What can you do?"

"Protect his bodily functions until he can get help," she said promptly. "I am a biological protector. I can use magic to keep his organs from deteriorating."

Max searched the darkened streets around the woman, and knew he didn't have a lot of choices. He needed to get James to Onida.

"Let … her help," James breathed. It was becoming harder to catch a breath, and his chest hurt worse than anything he'd ever experienced in his life.

Max took in the pain in James' eyes, and the slight blue tinge to his lips. Lifting his head to view the woman, he raised his gun again and declared, "Don't make me regret this."

The woman nodded. Pulling a small pouch from her pocket, she took a pinch of powder and sprinkled it lightly all across James' body. Under her breath, she said, "Formă și respirație, bătătură și os, legate în viață, protejate de întuneric." _(Form and breath, sinew and bone, bound in life, protected from darkness.) _

A clear, translucent blue light poured over James' body, starting in his middle and running out to the tips of his fingers, the top of his head down to the toes of his booted feet. Closing his eyes, James sighed and went still.

"Jimmy?" Max cried in panic. His hand went to James throat even as the woman said, "He's asleep." Sighing only when he felt the faint pulse at James' neck, he sagged back on the sidewalk. This hunt was officially screwed. But JT was out there converging on the Community Center, alone. Looking up, he asked, "Is there somewhere we can take him?"

The woman nodded. "Can you carry him?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. Getting onto his knees, he pulled James into a sitting position. "This won't hurt him, will it?"

Shaking her head, the woman said, "No, he's protected."

Max leaned in and hefted James upward so he was leaning into his body. He then maneuvered James closer and heaved until the younger man's abdomen was on his shoulder, then he climbed laboriously to his feet. Breathing hard, he said, "Lead on."

"We'll need to use the alley," she said, pointing behind her. It was the alley where JT had disappeared only minutes before. "We'll go up one block then cross the street."

Max frowned. "Where we need to go is on the other side of Main?"

The woman nodded.

"Then we cross here," Max stated. "There are men in the alleys and on top of the buildings down near the Community Center. We'll cross here before they can see us."

"They'll still be watching," the woman protected. "Their focus is on the northern and southern ends of the town. They'll see you."

"Maybe not," Max said. Closing his eyes, he murmured an incantation he'd learned years ago, and a soft whoosh sounded. Muttering a second incantation, this one newly learned from Adam, he sent shadows to follow his first spell down the street.

The woman's eyes widened. "You can do magic."

"Not a lot, but some," Max stated. Moving to the edge of the building, he waited until he heard the wind he'd sent down the street knock something over. When he was sure that his phantasm and shadows had the townspeople's attention, he ran across the street, the woman following. When they were safely obscured behind the building on the corner of Main and Chicago, he turned and said, "Okay, lead on."

"I don't think I'll have to," the woman said, pointing. Two figures had just emerged from the shadows around the back end of the Building and Loan Office. One of them was Ethan Matthews.

**.**

Dean, Sam, and Caleb were thrown to the ground under the combined shocks of the earthquake rolling through the park and the Chaos Spell spiraling out in all directions with the power of a hurricane. Dean could literally feel the hair standing up on his head.

"Damn it," Dean grumbled, climbing to his feet. He certainly hoped Joshua had a way to stop the spell in addition to getting rid of the Tree. But first things first: they needed to take out Piruz. That would be a challenge in and of itself. There were four of them, damn it; he, Sam, Caleb and Joshua. He was not about to be shown up by Triad's of the past. Stalking forward, he pulled his last two stars from his pocket.

Sam crawled onto his knees, then gasped as he saw Caleb marching toward Piruz, his blade a blur as it deflected the spells being thrown at him. Fury etched his face, and something else… Sam's eyes darted to the tree line where he saw a body. Joshua. Horror went through him as his gaze jerked back to Piruz. The wizard was firing assault after assault, not only at Caleb, but at the person to his rear: Dean. The Guardian of the Brotherhood was coming at Piruz, shield in place, a long, burnished sword in his hand.

The Tree stood there, benign in appearance, but Sam could feel its effect as conflicting waves emanating from its core. _Go, run, leave these people to their fate; he had never wanted to be a hunter in the first place. Leave them and go find some peace_. Then on the flip side; _take the wizard on! Use the power kept hidden inside and crush Piruz's chest like he had Alastair's_. Just then Piruz threw a massive blast of power at Caleb, and the Knight went flying backward, landing in a heap on the grassy floor. Sam he could feel the power and the fury building up inside his body. Dean rushed Piruz while the wizard's attention was on Caleb. The silver sword penetrated Piruz's shielding, tip first and ran the wizard through. Piruz staggered. Reaching up, he touched empty space and a portal formed. No! Sam thought. Not again! He ran forward and threw an enormous blast of psychic energy at Piruz using all the rage, fear and sorrow in his body. Piruz snarled and threw up a hand in an attempt to divert the power. Sam's power smashed into Piruz, disintegrating his hand and arm, and punching a hole right through his body. Piruz's magic and Sam's psychic energy ignited like a bomb. Energy was drawn inward, then exploded outward in a cacophony of earth, pressure and sound. Sam saw the witch fly through the air and slam into the Tree before everything was obliterated in the explosive wave. When the blast cleared, Sam was horrified to see Dean lying several feet from Piruz, unmoving on the cratered and earthquake torn ground. "Nooooo!" Sam screamed, running forward … and suddenly Sam was climbing to his feet, gasping for air, barely able to breathe.

_Sam…?_

Sam's eyes jerked toward Caleb, who was using a trash can for leverage to regain his footing. Caleb, alive and well. Immediately he wrenched his gaze away and over to Dean, who was climbing to his feet. Blinking, his mind cleared and instantly he knew: it had been a future vision. And the future was fluid; it could be changed.

_Sam!_

Eyes going back to Caleb, he thought, _I'm fine. _His gaze went to the tree line where Joshua was standing, his head bowed. Sam knew he was preparing an incantation. _Tell Dean not to charge Piruz._

_Why?_

_Please…_

_I will, but you know Dean._

_Yeah. _Sam closed his eyes and tried to think. _Watch out for Joshua._

Caleb whipped around toward Joshua, and saw that Ryker had the older man's elbow to help steady him. He didn't usually talk psychically to Joshua, but he focused and did so now. _Sam said to watch out. Trouble coming._

Joshua looked Caleb straight in the eye, and nodded.

Caleb sighed and met eyes with Ryker. The younger man's chin jerked upward; he would watch out for Joshua. Giving an answering nod, he turned and his eyes went to Dean, who was already up and moving forward. The Guardian was readying to throw something at Piruz. When he let it go, Caleb saw a glint of silver, and figured it was a throwing star. _Deuce, Sam said don't rush Piruz_.

Dean's eyes locked with Caleb's, then flicked over to Sam. Heaving out a sigh, he nodded. Sam didn't want him near Piruz for some reason, but how were they supposed to stop him when they couldn't get close? Reaching into his pocket, he shook the flask of water. He had enough for another few throwing stars and maybe a sword, but that was it.

Caleb threw another spell pouch at Piruz, but his aim was off and it hit the man standing near the wizard, a man now free of the spell keeping the Tree in check. The man dropped. Growling, Caleb shook his head. His brain felt like it was on fire, and his coordination was off. _Suck it up, soldier_, John's voice echoed in his ears. Always, when it came down to the worst of circumstances, John's voice would bring him back on course. The chaos from the spell was wrecking some havoc with his body, but he wasn't incapacitated. It was his aim that was off. He needed to compensate. Looking up again, he aimed a few inches to the left and let another spell go loose. It hit Piruz in the chest and the wizard whirled in his direction, scowling.

"Tu quoque nuper, Bellator," Piruz called. "Quod lignum sit libera." _(You are too late, Warrior. The Tree is free.)_

Caleb didn't even bother trying to translate the Latin. He simply watched as Piruz stumbled under an assault by both Sam and Dean, as Sam threw spell bags and Dean hurled a throwing star.

Piruz, however, didn't go down. Instead, anger such as he had rarely given indulgence to rose within his body. This was supposed to be his moment of triumph. He had worked centuries to show the God-With-No-Name that ridding the world of evil without destroying everything and everyone was possible. His family need not have died; their servants, his friends need not have died. The Chaos Spell was controlling the uncontrollable Tree, and he could feel the waves of chaos moving out across the country. Now was not the time for Merlin's recruits to interfere. Pulling at all his magical power, he murmured a few words and slung power out to all three warriors.

Joshua had felt the power building, and he dragged Ryker behind a tree as it slammed through the park and the surrounding area. The big guns were ready, and it was time he used them. He moved to stand before one of his Triad symbols and quickly began to activate the spell.

Dean crawled up off the ground and grabbed at his shield again. The moisture in his hand morphed into a massive broad sword and he began stalking forward.

_No! _

Hesitating, Dean turned to see Sam watching him. It was a rare thing to hear Sam in his head. Sam always said he didn't want to know what was going on in his brother's noggin, and frankly, he'd never needed Sam in his head to know what his brother was thinking. Wrenching his eyes away, he saw Caleb stalking Piruz, the Dragon's Talon moving with such speed, it was a blur of sparks and light. Gritting his teeth, he wondered what he was supposed to do! Sam had risen now and was pelting Piruz with spell bags, and the wizard was starting to stagger under the power. He was out of water, and this wasn't like Washington where he could use the water in the forest. He didn't have access to water through a mystical portal. Then suddenly he thought of Eden. Pastor Jim told him Eden was bound on all four sides by rivers of water. He had used that knowledge somehow to create a bridge back to New York without touching the water. Frowning, he looked down at the grass beneath his feet. If there was water or a sprinkler system beneath the park, could he use _that_ water…?

Joshua's hands moved over the Triad symbol. Then, slowly, he stepped forward to the edge of the tree line. He stared out at Piruz, raised his arms and let loose a torrent of power than knocked the wizard off his feet and back into the Tree.

Ryker, watching from the sidelines, murmured, "_That_ was cool."

**.**

Joel, Daniel and Keith heard the Tourer crash from around the corner. When Keith turned to race back the way they'd come, Daniel and Joel both hissed, "Stop!" Keith froze, his eyes wide in shock.

Joel nodded to Daniel, who took a small plastic bag from his pocket. After taking a pinch of the spell powder, he blew it out across the street. The area lit up like a carnival.

"They've re-established the lines," Daniel said.

Joel stared around at the lines crisscrossing the road and the sidewalk. It was a miracle they hadn't stepped on a line and gotten zapped. Looking up to Keith, he said, "Can you get around these?"

Keith pulled a small cartouche out from around his neck. "I've got protection."

"Then you head back and check on Adam. We'll go forward."

"But…" Keith looked around at the lines that were disappearing as the spell Joel used faded. "How will you get there?"

"That's for us to worry about," Daniel replied. "You help Adam."

Keith nodded and turned back the way they'd come. Within a minute, he had disappeared around the corner of Kansas Road.

Daniel eyed the road. "Should we take the alleys? They'll probably have lookouts."

Joel blew a bit of spell dust down the alley they'd just past. It was warded as well, but not to the extent of the main street. Commotion sounded, and they both looked up to see people running up Main Street from the northern end. He didn't see anyone he recognized, and figured that at least some of the townspeople were warded against the spell lines. Just then the ground rumbled and cracked, knocking them off their balance and sending plaster down around their heads. When the quaking stopped, Joel blinked the dirt and dust from his eyes.

"What the hell?" Daniel muttered, brushing plaster dust from his head and face.

"That may have changed things a bit," Joel said with a grin, figuring that several of the spell lines had probably cracked. "Still interested in that alley?"

Daniel grinned and nodded.

**.**

Keith rounded the corner and saw the large van on its side, the wheels still spinning. Running full out, he approached the Tourer and tried to sidestep all the glass to get a look in the front window frame. Adam was held in place by his seatbelt, though his head was lolling to the side in a way that couldn't be good for his neck, and blood was dripping slowly from his forehead. Carefully leaning into the car, his hands on the frame, he called, "Adam?" He got no reply. Suddenly he felt someone behind him. Rising, he turned slowly, then sagged as his breath whooshed out. "Cadmael!"

The black haired man hurried over to the car and looked inside. "How is he?"

"I don't know. I just got here."

Cadmael leaned down and peered into the van. As it was dark, he couldn't see much. "I'll go in through the windshield and get him loose from the seatbelt," he said. Shrugging out of his jacket, he lay it down across the jagged edges of the windshield frame. "We'll have to pull him through." At Keith's nod, he stepped forward, his shoes crunching on the windshield glass.

These rescuers converging on Main had had an easier time than they realized, as he had been taking out those who had been stationed on rooftops all along the town. Starting with the outer buildings, he had been working his way in. It had been a necessary sorrow, to use his power against his own coven.

Crouching, he slid carefully through the broken windshield and into the car. A quick check of Adam's pulse told him the man was alive though unconscious. "I'm going to release the seatbelt." Reaching over Adam's head, he released the belt from above so he could catch the unconscious man. Grunting under the weight of the tall man, Cadmael shifted, slowly maneuvering Adam down and closer to the opening so Keith could move in and pull him out.

"Watch the glass," Keith murmured quietly.

Cadmael nodded, and together they eased Adam from the car and began to move him to the sidewalk. "Wait." Reaching into his pocket, Cadmael pulled out a small pendant on a chain. Sliding it over Adam's head, he nodded, and they pulled the unconscious man from the wreck and onto the sidewalk. "How are the others finding the protection lines?"

"Revelation dust," Keith said, sitting back on his heels, his head hung as he tried to catch his breath. "The lines were down, then suddenly back up." He shook his head. "We were almost caught in one."

Cadmael nodded. "I believe the fighters used dampening spells to take down the protection lines. Moira must have countered their power."

"The two men I was with kept their cool," Keith revealing admiringly. "We heard the crash, and they froze until they could reveal the lines." Eyeing the other man, he asked, "What are we going to do?"

Cadmael pulled a small bottle from his pocket. "You're going to take this gentleman to the City Hall." He pulled open Adam's mouth, tipped the bottle over and allowed three drops to fall into his mouth. Immediately Adam stirred. Then, looking up at Keith, he said, "I'm going to the Community Center. It is time for this to end."

Keith's eyes widened. "You said you couldn't end the spell on the three without killing them, it was that powerful."

Cadmael rose to his feet. "People are dying," he looked down at Adam; "they're getting hurt. These people have come to help stop the wizard and what he is doing. Can I do any less?"

"But…" Keith sputtered. "Maribelle?"

"I will do everything in my power to save them all."

Keith nodded slowly. "God go with you."

Cadmael nodded once as Adam opened his eyes and groaned. Turning, he stepped into the nearest alley and disappeared into the darkness.

**.**

Piruz climbed to his feet, anger coursing through him. He felt wild, powerful, a rash freedom coursing through him such as he'd rarely felt before. It was a sensation he only experienced when the Tree was completely free, and that hadn't happened for a few hundred years, not since the last trio of Merlin's Warriors had stopped him. But he'd been better prepared this time, his plan had covered all the contingencies, and now the Tree was completely free! Raising his face to the skies, he laughed.

_That's so not good_, Caleb's voice whispered in Dean and Sam's heads.

"Come, Warriors," Piruz shouted. "Si enim debet mori." _(Die if you must.)_

_I believe he just called us out._

Piruz stepped forward and began throwing spells, first at Caleb, then back at Dean and lastly, over at Sam. Caleb ducked behind his silver shield and scuttled to the side to take cover behind the larger trash can. Sam, not having any trash receptacles near him, crouched down behind the shield, thankful it was taller and wider than Caleb's.

Dean dove to the side as a spell whirled past him, juggling his shield to keep his body as protected as was possible when one is flying through the air. Giving a silent growl, he knew this needed to end. Caleb had gotten close enough to Piruz to have a knife at the man's throat. A scene from the Matrix flashed through his mind, with one of the matrix-generated programs saying, _Only Human_. And that was Piruz: only human. Lifting his head, his eyes met Sam's over the distance, held for a second before he pushed himself to his feet. Turning his gaze away from his brother, he refocused his attention solely on Piruz. He knew Sam didn't want him to charge the wizard, but he needed to get closer for his idea to work.

Sam watched his brother before he swallowed hard, nodding to himself. He had learned long ago that he couldn't stop Dean from being Dean. If he was going to do anything to safeguard his brother, it needed to be now. Caleb always said told him his abilities were a part of who he was. But as he'd seen earlier in his vision, it was too powerful a part to let loose. But maybe it was time he pulled his head out of the sand and learned some control. Taking a step forward, he suddenly heard Caleb speak; _Dean's got something planned…_

Sam's eyes went to Caleb, who was watching him. _How do you know_?

_It's Dean._

Caleb turned to where Joshua was standing at the edge of the tree line. The older man gave Caleb a nod, and Caleb stood, resolute. _Let's do this_, he sent to Sam and Dean.

Moving forward, he pulled two spell bags from his considerably depleted store of magical ammunition, and hurled them at Piruz as he advanced. At the exact same moment, Sam attacked as well. Piruz returned fire with resolve, the laughter of a moment before gone, replaced by an expression of deadly determination. This standoff would end.

Dean, Sam and Caleb advanced as one, keeping Piruz's attention divided between them until Caleb felt the anticipation behind him. A glance back at Joshua told him that whatever their Advisor had planned was ready.

Joshua didn't need to say anything at all for Caleb to give a psychic _DOWN!_ to Sam and Dean before he hit the ground.

The Advisor to the Triad of the Brotherhood shoved a massive spell through the park, hitting Piruz directly in the chest and knocking him back several feet. Leaning forward, hands on his knees, Joshua watched as the wizard lay still for a few seconds, then crawl back to his feet, his face a contorted mask of rage. Straightening once more, Joshua murmured softly, closed his eyes and directed another pulse of dynamic power at the wizard.

At the exact same, moment, Caleb reared back and threw the Dragon's Talon with deadly accuracy.

The second thrust of power hit and Piruz stumbled backward just as the Dragon's Talon flew past his protection spell. The momentum of the fall saved his life as the blade buried itself hilt-deep in his shoulder rather than in his chest.

"Arruugh!" Piruz shouted. Pain, so much pain. He hurled a spell at Joshua as he pulled the blade from his flesh. Touching the pendant around his neck, he murmured, "Restituere potentia et tutela." _(Restore power and protection.)_ The pendant gave a feeble burst of power, but Piruz knew his time here was very limited. He needed to leave. Grinning, he hefted the weapon in the air. "Tibi gratias ago pro tali valuable arma, miles." _(Thank you for such a valuable weapon, Soldier.)_

"Not on your life," Caleb growled. Ever since his previous battle with Piruz, when the Talon had countered every spell thrown at him without any direction from him, he had wondered whether he and the blade were psychically connected. Time to test the theory: _Come to me_, he thought. The blade ripped itself from Piruz's hand and flew to Caleb, who plucked it from the air with ease.

"No!" Piruz yelled before power suddenly clenched a tight fist around his body and squeezed. Stumbling to the side, he struggled to face the Teacher just as another force grabbed his throat.

Sam's breath came in short gasps as he watched Piruz, focused completely on immobilizing the wizard. He had power, and if there was ever a time to use it, it was now. He felt a rib crack as the witch stumbled. When Piruz started to gasp, he knew Caleb had added his own psychic power.

Dean had been running toward Piruz, but suddenly stopped. It was now or never. Dropping to the ground, he placed his hands in the grass. He didn't know whether this was possible, but water was the Guardian's to call. Closing his eyes, he thought of water and sought it out. Deep in the earth, he felt the moisture and nearly lost his grip, he was so startled. Now, could he make it do what he wanted? Frowning, he shoved the water toward Piruz. It was much harder than he would have thought, moving water through the ground. Grunting, he worked harder to muscle it through the dirt, the thin tendrils of grass roots and passed rocks both large and small.

Joshua flung another wave of power at Piruz, who dropped to his knees. Raising a hand, he strangled out a word and a small portal opened. Another wave of power pummeled into him, and Piruz was thrown backward. Pain such as he had never experienced before pounded through his body. He needed to leave; now.

Suddenly water burst upward all around him, shooting up like rain from the earth. But this wasn't like any rain he'd ever seen. This rain turned silver and wound around him like ropes, binding his arms and feet. The pressure from the Teacher on his chest eased as the silver tightened. Gritting his teeth, he knew he needed to get through the portal, and he tried to move forward. However, before he could get even a few inches, large silver stakes speared upward through the grass. The silver chains wound around them, effectively pinning him to the ground.

Growling, Piruz closed his eyes and murmured, "quat al'ard walhua' , 'asrar alnujum walsama' , 'adeukum 'iilaa kasr hadhih alrawabit." _(Power of earth and air, mysteries of stars and heaven, I call on you to break these bonds.)_ His magic strained against the silver, but could not break the strands.

Caleb walked forward, satisfaction etched on his face as he surveyed the linked chain Dean had wound around Piruz. However, he'd only gone a few steps when he stumbled slightly. Grimacing in pain, he reached up and rubbed at his head. The Tree; they had completely forgotten about the Tree during their focused battle with Piruz. Joshua's protection pouches had protected them thus far, but the full blast of power from the Chaos Spell and the Tree were being felt.

Sam had started toward the wizard like Caleb, but halted immediately when he saw the older man stumble. It was only then that he realized his own head was pounding. _Caleb?_

_I'm … okay. Head hurts_.

Sam's eyes went to Joshua, who was kneeling at the tree line, obviously worn out from the use of such powerful magic. Instead of going to Caleb, who had remained about fifteen yards from Piruz and the Tree, he turned and started an awkward jog toward their Advisor. "Joshua? Joshua! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," wheezed Joshua, trying to catch his breath.

"He was amazing," Ryker stated, seeing the role of Advisor in a whole new light.

Sam grinned. "Can you do something to strengthen the spell pouches? Caleb and I are having difficulty with our equilibrium, and the buzzing is starting to affect our motor skills. We'll need to get closer to the Tree if we're too…" He left the rest of the sentence dangling.

Joshua knew exactly what he meant, and nodded. Turning to Ryker, he said, "Would you fetch my duffel, please?" Ryker nodded and hurried back through the trees. Turning to Sam, he said, "Don't trust that Piruz is restrained." His eyes went to the wizard bound in the silver chains. "He won't stay pinned for long."

"I think he's already tried one spell," Sam said, glancing over his shoulder. Past where Piruz knelt he saw Dean heading for the wizard, though Caleb was staying back. Sam could feel the Knight's pain; it mirrored his own, though Dean seemed to be holding up all right.

Ryker hurried back bringing Joshua's duffle. The elder Advisor reached in and began sorting herbs, spices and minerals. Every once in a while he'd say, "That one," and "a bit of that one," directing Ryker in the making of a new spell bag. Finally he touched the bags with his wand, murmuring, "Ut viribus trium tenetur: terra, ignis, aqua, vitae." _(Strength of the three bound as one: earth, fire, water, life.) _Lifting the pouches, he handed them to Sam.

"Thank you," Sam said, looping one around his neck. Instantly he felt steadier. Turning, he jogged across the grass and handed a pouch to Caleb, then hurried to give one to Dean.

Dean hung the new spell bag around his neck, though he thought they were going a little overboard in the neckwear department. But he felt stronger, and the buzzing lessened.

"Joshua said not to trust him," Sam said softly. "He's going to try and escape."

"Yeah, if that little portal hovering there has anything to say about it," Caleb stated as he jogged up to stand beside the other two.

Dean eyed the portal. "Can Josh get rid of it?"

"I don't know, but no one's going through it, not even Piruz," Caleb stated as he turned and walked toward the man on his knees and bound in silver.

Dean's eyes narrowed as he walked toward Piruz, Sam at his side. He didn't relish killing a human, no matter how long lived they were. But this guy wouldn't be continuing his efforts to take down the world, nor would another Triad be forced to deal with him. The wizard's schemes ended right here, tonight.

"Tu non poteris rationem custodire ad diu mecum.," Piruz hissed, rage burning in the depths of his eyes. _(You will not be able to hold me for long.)_

Dean didn't bother attempting to translate the Latin. He was sure it was typical bad guy _Let me go or I'll make you sorry_ kind of talk. He looked down at the silver binding Piruz's hands, and immediately the silver tightened around his wrists and ankles.

Caleb removed the Dragon's Talon from his belt and adjusted his grip on the hilt. He knew what they had to do; Dean knew it too. No way could they allow Piruz to continue his rampage through history. Lifting his gaze from Piruz to Dean, their eyes met. _Ready?_

_Do it._

Caleb's eyes went to Sam.

Sam's eyes met Caleb's. He didn't like it, but part of being the Triad was making tough choices. His chin jerked in a firm nod.

Caleb stepped forward, the blade raised.

Piruz frowned. "Non licet interficere hominem ab inermi." _(You cannot kill an unarmed man.)_

Sam snorted. "Tu minime sine defensione. Vos can minime procedat." _(You're certainly not unarmed, and you cannot continue.)_

Dean looked at the silver, and a thin strand ran up Piruz's back, encircled his head from back to forehead like a band and jerked, tilted his head back and exposing his throat.

Ryker helped Joshua stand as the crafter twirled a finger, murmured, "Fenestra in te regna: quiescite." _(Windows through time and space, cease.)_ And he snapped his fingers.

Piruz's eyes widened as his portal winked away. Furious, he shouted, "No!"

"No Eden for you," Dean murmured to himself. Eden was a paradise for which mankind was no longer a fit, especially not a man bent on destroying civilization.

Caleb's blade rose. However, before he could deliver the death blow, a thick wave of mist surged across the grass like a wave crossing sand, completely obliterating the ground, the trees surrounding the park, even the sky. Startled, Caleb spun around as goose bumps rose on his skin, evidence of the sudden, freezing chill. He raised his blade.

"What…?" Sam exclaimed, his eyes wide. He jerked his eyes back to Piruz.

Dean also watched the witch, but Piruz seemed as genuinely perplexed as they did.

The Triad lifted their weapons, trying to see through the thick haze when a tall, slender figure suddenly emerged as though stepping through a heavy white curtain. Pausing with subdued theatricality, he walked languidly forward, looking for all intents and purposes as though he were shedding the mist like a shroud.

Dean's eyes widened and he attempted to swallow, though his mouth had gone completely dry. "Crap," he whispered.

Sam's eyes darted to his brother, then back to the tall, slender figure. The man gave him the creeps, and he hoped he wasn't a comrade of Piruz's. Cause he didn't think they could beat this guy.

Caleb was trying with all his might to keep the Dragon's Talon from quivering. Power wasn't exactly emanating from the man; more like he was a dark void of nothingness. Normally he would have taken a psychic read, but every cell in his body was screaming at him to keep away.

Almost skeletal in appearance, deep grooves lined the sides of the man's wide, thin mouth. Beneath a high forehead and slicked-back hair, his eyes were endless and distant, ancient and cool. Swinging a solid black umbrella, he was dressed in an expensive, perfectly tailored suit replete with bowler hat. Sparing only a glance for the man bound in silver chains, he approached the Triad of the Brotherhood, smiled, and drawled, "Hello, Dean."

Caleb and Sam both swung their eyes to Dean, who was looking pasty and pale.

Trying to work up some saliva to moisten his mouth so he could speak, Dean finally cleared his throat and said, "Sam, Caleb; meet Death."

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Elena is descended from a gypsy line, and the language is Romanian._

_Thank you so much to Shazza19, cyenthia 30, summerb8l21, and my Guest for your wonderful feedback and reviews. And thank you, kathyrebhansar for jumping in! I appreciate you all for taking the time to post, and for your wonderful comments. I hope the battle is everything you've waited for!_


	28. Chapter 28

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 28

.

JT scaled the ancient metal ladder attached to the building west of Main and slipped out onto the roof. On the far side a man leaned against the building ledge watching the street. Moving with all the stealth of a cat, he crossed the rooftop and put the man in a silent headlock. Choking slightly, the man kicked and struggled before going still a few seconds later. Lowering him to the ground, JT pulled a strip of duct tape from his sleeve and put it over the man's mouth. He then dragged him across the roof to the back half of the building, zip-tied his feet together and zip-tied his hands around the ladder frame. Just as quietly he scampered back down the ladder and dropped silently onto the dirt-covered alley ground. Grunting, he rubbed at his arm. The pain had been steadily increasing since he'd been hit with the potion. But it wasn't debilitating, and he could wait for treatment a little while longer.

Lifting a plastic pouch from his pocket, he pinched some dust and blew it over the alley. One protection line zigzagged between the buildings.

JT had felt the spells reactivate around Lebanon soon after he left James and Max out on Chicago Street. Freezing in his tracks and overwhelmed by a sense of wrongness, he'd turned and stared back down the darkened alley toward the street. The temptation to run back and check on his Triad had been powerful, but he forced himself to keep his mind on the task at hand. He could trust Max to watch out for James, and visa-versa.

When he'd blown powder across the alley, there had been revealed a maze of protection lines crisscrossing the alley, spiraling out in bizarre directions. It made sense that the spells would increase the closer they came to the Community Center. There were, however, large blank spots in the maze where the earthquake had disrupted the spells. Eyeing the buildings, he'd mapped out a path through the lines by using the building ladders, drainage pipes and window sills. It had taken time, but he'd been able to avoid the protection magic and make it to the next building.

Now with the first two buildings cleared, he skirted the protection line, dodged another and jogged to the third building. Quietly he scaled the ladder and peaked over the roof ledge. There were two people on this rooftop; a man and a woman. Reaching into the corner of his sling, he fingered one of Adam's sleeping spell pouches and considered his options. There was a much greater chance of one or both persons hearing him as he crossed the tar-covered roof. And if he threw the pouch, there was an equal chance they would sound the alarm before the sleeping potion took effect. Shooting them wasn't an option, and he'd already used the few tranquilizer darts he'd brought during the earlier altercation coming into town. Suddenly, an unusual idea popped into his head. Rolling quietly over the ledge onto the roof, he moved quickly across the surface before he had a chance to change his mind.

When he got close to the two watchers, he moved with speed and deliberation. Just as the woman turned around and saw him, he grabbed a side of each head and knocked them firmly together. Both people dropped instantly to the ground, unconscious.

A voice whispered, "I didn't just see that, did I?"

JT whirled around to see Max coming over the edge of the roof, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Come help me," he groused, his voice a shadow in the air.

Grinning, Max glided across the roof and grabbed the feet of the man. As he pulled him to the rear of the building, JT took care of the woman. Once they'd secured the pair to the railing, they climbed back down to the back pathway.

The question that had been percolating in JT's head since the protections line lit back up burst out. "Jimmy?"

The smile fell from Max's face. "He's fine," he rushed to assure his best friend. "He got caught in one of the protection spells. I got him out, and Onida is taking care of him."

JT watched Max and knew there was a lot the other wasn't saying. How bad was he hurt? How was Onida taking care of him? But instead of voicing those questions now, he asked in a hushed tone, "You see anyone else?"

Max nodded. "That's why I'm here instead of across the street. Ethan and Elijah are over there along with Joel and Daniel. Many of the spell lines were broken when Onida unleashed the earthquake."

"That was her?" JT asked, his expression wondering.

"Yeah. She did something with clay and volcanic ash, whatever, but it really tired her out. She, James and Adam are in the basement of City Hall."

"Adam?"

"He drove straight into a protection line; protection _wall_, more like it. It crunched up the Tourer and he was hurt pretty bad. The coven leader used a potion on him, and he's better, especially now that he's with Onida."

"The coven leader," JT murmured slowly.

"Long story. Right now we got two more boogies on the building two doors down, seven people down the alleys on this side of the street. Across the street there's twelve in the alleys, four on the rooftops. Ethan and Elijah are up top. They'll join Daniel and Joel down below once the roofs are cleared." Pulling out a chain with a pendant, he handed it over. "The coven guy said these would protect us against most of the protection lines."

JT took the pendant slowly. "You trust this coven leader?"

"He was apparently strong enough to avoid getting whammied," Max whispered. "And he set three of his people free before we arrived. I guess those creds are as good as we're gonna get."

Nodding slowly, JT slipped the pendant over his head. "Then let's get on the next roof, take out those people," he remarked, hugging the building wall as he trotted down the alley.

"Maybe you can do the Marx Brothers thing again," Max called out softly.

"Shuddup," JT muttered, feeling his face heat up.

Max grinned as he moved through the darkness.

**.**

Ethan descended the drain pipe hand over hand. The two men atop the building were incapacitated and zip-tied to a pipe on the roof. Jumping to the alley floor, he turned to face someone he was very glad to have back at his side: Elijah.

He and William had left City Hall in search of anyone else who might have been hurt after the protection lines had been restored. Within minutes they'd come across Max, who carried an unconscious James draped over his shoulder. William immediately went to give the woman accompanying them a quick hug. Ethan found out her name was Elena, and she had done a spell to help stabilize James' bodily functions until they could get him to Onida.

"She's in a basement nearby," Ethan said quickly. He attempted to take James' weight in order to give Max a break, but the other man wouldn't hear of it. Instead of pressing the issue, he led the way into City Hall, then downstairs.

Onida scrambled to her feet when they brought in James. Max laid him down on the couch and she rushed to check him out. "Damage to almost all his major organs; heart, liver, kidneys. His brain got a jolt, but seems to be recovering."

"Can you help him?" Max asked anxiously. He knew Onida was a healer, but also knew she'd probably used an extraordinary amount of energy already today.

Onida nodded. "He'll be fine." Sparing only a quick look of reassurance for Max, she said, "Now, everyone go way and let me do my thing." The two coven members as well as Ethan and Elijah moved out into the hallway, but Max remained a few feet away, watching.

In the hallway, William introduced Elena. "She's a coven member. She was watching the northern side of the town."

"Did you see what happened?" Elijah asked.

Elena shook her head. "I was coming down Main from the church when I saw Max pulling at the younger man. I could only assume the young one…"

"James," Ethan supplied.

Nodding, Elena said, "James, had been caught in a protection trap. By the time I got there Max had jumpstarted his heart, but I could tell his vital signs were weak. I used a spell to stabilize his organs until he could get some help."

"Elena specializes in biological magic," William explained to Ethan and Elijah. "While she isn't a healer, she can prevent organ deterioration, and that in and of itself can be healing."

"But your healer is working now," Elena said comfortingly. "I'm sure James will be…"

A clatter on the stairway had Ethan and Elijah shoving Elena and William into the basement room, and facing the stairs with guns drawn.

Two men holding up a third froze on the stairwell. One's eyes were wide; the other's calm and unconcerned. The latter immediately murmured, "Tin cha'aj u le calma yéetel le tranquilidad fluyan ti' le kúuchila', le seguridad le Jets' óolal." _(Let calm and tranquility flow through this place, assurance of peace.)_

Ethan felt a peace permeate his body, and though he wanted to, he didn't let his gun drop even an inch. "Neat trick. Let Adam go and step aside, or get shot."

Sighing, the black haired man who had murmured the incantation said, "I apologize for attempting to go around your defenses. I am Cadmael, coven leader to those enthralled by the wizard. This man," he nodded in Adam's direction, "was in a car accident. He has been healed, but needs rest. May we pass?"

Ethan merely stared at the man, not moving to drop his weapon. He didn't like that the man had attempted to use magic on them instead of just saying that in the first place. To him it showed elitism and a disregard for others.

"Adam needs our help," Elijah murmured to Ethan. "The guy stepped in it, yeah. But let's take care of Adam."

Instead of speaking, Ethan merely stepped back from the door, though his gun remained trained on the two strangers. Nodding to Elijah, he allowed them to take Adam inside where Onida could tend to him.

Cadmael and Keith laid Adam on the open couch. When Cadmael bent down to check Adam out, Ethan stepped in. "No, let her," he nodded to Onida, who still had her hands over James.

Keith rose to argue against the slight lobbed at his coven leader, but Cadmael shook his head. Facing Ethan, he said, "I humbly apologize for attempting to get around you so this man could rest. It was an error in judgment." Sighing, he shook his head. "This situation, with my people held hostage, has been trying. I hope you will forgive me."

Ethan merely eyed the man. His pride and stubbornness were warring with his years of experience in making snap judgments in the field, and those instincts were telling him this guy was genuine.

Elijah didn't say anything. He just waited for his brother to accept the man's words.

Finally Ethan lowered his gun and said gruffly, "Apology accepted."

Cadmael nodded, then gestured over at Adam. When Ethan nodded, he went over and held his hands over Adam's body much like Onida was doing over James.

Sighing, Ethan said, "I'm going back out, see if I can find Joel and Daniel."

"They're heading up Main," the man with the coven leader said, looking over his shoulder.

"Then I'll meet up with them," Ethan stated, heading for the door.

"I'm going with you," Elijah stated.

Ethan spun around, shaking his head. "You were just unconscious. You need to…"

"We're on a hunt and I've been cleared by Onida," Elijah retorted firmly. "Right now there are people out there that need our help, and a maniac that needs to be stopped."

Ethan sighed. "Fine. But you get hurt again and it's back to the basement."

"Agreed."

Now after clearing one roof, they were on to the second. Daniel and Joel were making their careful way through the alleys.

Grimacing, Ethan rubbed at his temples.

"Headache?" Elijah murmured.

"Naw. That damn buzzing is irritating." Sighing, Ethan looked reflexively in the direction of the park. "I'd say the Chaos Spell's been completed."

Elijah's brows rose. He'd been feeling a buzzing along his skin as well, but had attributed it to being caught in one of the protection lines.

"Let's get this done," Ethan murmured. Gripping the metal ladder bolted to the side of the Post Office, he began to climb. It was short work to take out the man and woman up top, and secure them to the metal railing before descending back into the alley.

"You know, the Watchers should sense our taking their pieces off the board," Elijah murmured.

"Nothin' we can do about that. We clear as many buildings as we can, then take them out front-on when we need to."

Elijah pulled his shirt aside and dangled the pendant Cadmael had given them. "At least we won't have to worry as much about the protection lines."

Ethan wasn't as sure about that, but nodded anyway. Before they'd left the basement, Cadmael had handed over four pendants: one each for him, Elijah, Joel and Daniel. He'd said it would help them cross the protection lines without getting injured.

"I trust him," Elijah said with a smile.

Ethan ignored that and continued down the alley. If they made it through this complicated hunt in one piece, then maybe he'd trust the guy.

**.**

Cadmael watched as Onida slept in the leather lounge chair. She had healed every one of the young man's injuries, then took a moment to check over Adam before dropping into the leather chair and immediately dozing off. With a sigh, he walked over to the man he knew was called James, and stared down at the very young, baby face. The nearly full-on black hair was mussed, and a very faint shadow colored the boy's chin in what would someday become a defined five o'clock shadow. But now in sleep, that shadow just made the boy look as though he were playing grownup, and he felt his eyes moisten. This boy, this child, could have died because _he_ hadn't wanted to take on his three coven members who were enforcing the wizard's enthralling. He had the power to do just that at his disposal; he had a powerfully magical heritage and was himself a highly gifted witch. Yet he had delayed, tried to free the coven members one by one. He hadn't considered that someone else would sense what they had, and come to take down the wizard. His eyes went back to James, certainly not one this young. Sighing, he dropped into the high back wooden chair. And still, he was delaying the inevitable.

"You're troubled."

Cadmael turned to Elena and nodded.

"We have help. The wizard will be defeated."

"Possibly," Cadmael murmured. He did not know these people, but they seemed skilled in their quest. But he couldn't base his decisions on the possibility of their success. He needed his people free, he needed to do his part in stopping the wizard from completing his task. Pulling in a bracing breath, he stood. "I will be back as soon as possible." He nodded to James, Adam and Onida. "Watch over them," he looked past Elena to where William and Keith were sitting, watching. "If you are willing, I would ask that you both act as sentinel. You won't be questioned as you watch the door."

Both men scrambled to their feet.

Concerned, Elena said, "You're going to stop them, aren't you?"

Cadmael nodded.

"What of the consequences?" Elena whispered. "Wresting them away without sufficient power could kill them."

"I know."

"Are you sure about this?" William asked.

"I believe in these people," Keith interjected. "I've seen them fight, seen them under pressure. They can take down the wizard."

Cadmael nodded. "I want them to succeed as well. But this young man almost died; the twin of the warrior was brutally injured," he nodded to Adam, "this one; they all could have died because I was not willing to do what I knew had to be done."

"But…" William murmured.

"I will do my best for the welfare of all," Cadmael said softly. "It is my duty to my heritage and my coven."

Keith nodded slowly. "Then we too will do what is needed to help."

"Thank you." Turning to the door, Cadmael led the way out of the basement and out into the darkness.

**.**

James opened his eyes and groaned.

"Jimmy?"

"Ummm," James hummed, squinting to see who was speaking. He gave a slight smile when he saw Onida's face. "Hey," he murmured.

"How do you feel?"

James opened his mouth, then frowned as he saw her pale face and shadowed eyes. "Better question; how do _you_ feel?"

"Like crap," Onida smirked. Holding up a sandwich, she said, "This is my fourth, along with three power bars and five bottles of water. I'll be better soon."

Slowly James levered himself up into a sitting position and focused on the small, cinderblock room. "We're in a basement?"

"Beneath City Hall," Onida confirmed.

"You're kidding."

"Apparently the coven leader has been taking shelter here while trying to free his coven from Piruz. He freed three people." Onida pointed across the room. A woman with long, dark hair was sitting beside Adam, bathing his forehead. "That's Elena. She's a specialist in biological magic. She helped stabilize your vitals until you could be brought to me for healing."

"I think I remember her from the street," James mused. After a moment, he looked back to Onida and asked, "How am I?"

"You're fine. You sustained damage to your heart, kidneys and liver, other minor damage. It looks like the protection spells reactivated right on top of you, and you took the full brunt of the resurgence."

James' eyes were wide. "But I'm fine now?"

Onida smiled and nodded. "Right as rain. Elena's magic really helped. She was able to reverse some of the damage to your body before you got here. I did the rest. You'll be tired for a while, but will make a full, one hundred percent recovery."

Sighing in relief, James looked back over at Adam. "How come he's not awake?"

"He's sleeping, like you were," Onida admitted. "I gave him a cursory exam after I healed you. It appears as though their coven leader has healing abilities too, and he used them on Adam before he was brought here." She looked over her shoulder. "I'll give him another look as soon as I've replenish my energy reserves."

"He will be fine." Elena dipped the washcloth into some water again and wiped it over Adam's face.

James' eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the other woman. "How do you know?"

"Cadmael's magic is powerful."

"Then why isn't he awake?" James asked.

"Sleep is healing. He will wake when he's ready."

James' eyes went to Onida, who gave him a slight shrug. "Where is your coven leader?"

"He's going to stop the Watchers."

Onida and James both looked in her direction.

"How will he stop them?" Onida asked.

"Yeah," James said, frowning. "If he could do that, why hasn't he done it already?"

"The wizard's magic is too powerful."

"But you said he's going to do it now," Onida stated in confusion.

"The wizard has more power than anyone I've ever seen aside from our coven leader. He conscripted nearly every member of my coven and several of the townspeople. To control so many minds and maintain the integrity of the spell is very difficult even for one as powerful as this wizard. Thus to strengthen his hold and conserve his power, he used three of the most accomplished members as a fulcrum. The body of the spell rests on them."

"Not your coven leader?" James asked. "Wouldn't he be the most powerful member of the coven?"

Elena gave the young man a wan smile. "Cadmael is extremely powerful, but he is protected."

"Protected, how?" Onida asked.

"Magic," Elena answered obliquely. Instead of elaborating, she went on. "These three coven members are bound, and through them the wizard controls the others. Cadmael had hoped if he could free enough of the coven, together we would be powerful enough to break the wizard's hold on the others. Then you came, and we had hoped the wizard would be stopped. But you almost died," she said to James, "and he was injured," she looked down at Adam. "More were injured even when the protection spells were dampened." Shaking her head, she whispered, "Cadmael said the cost was too high, and that they must be stopped."

Onida sensed the darkness in Elena's words and asked in a measured tone, "How will he free them?"

"He will assault the wizard's spell with his might. It is possible for some to survive."

"What?" James exclaimed. "They'll die?"

"It's possible," Elena whispered. "As I said; the wizard's magic is strong. But we cannot let more die."

"I didn't die!" James exclaimed. Pointing to Adam, he cried, "He isn't dead!"

"Cadmael did not make this decision lightly," Elena explained. "There are powerful spells crisscrossing the entire town. Everyone walking the streets is in jeopardy." She pulled a pendant out from under her shirt. "Even these won't protect us from the worst of the spells. To the wizard, we are all disposable."

"You said the power of the coven could have subverted Piruz's power," Onida stated.

Elena frowned. "Piruz?"

"The wizard."

"Oh. Yes, Cadmael believed the power of the coven would have been enough to break the wizard's control. But now he will break the spell and do his best to keep his … friends alive."

Onida caught the catch, and suddenly she knew. "One of them is his wife."

Elena's eyes filled with tears as she nodded.

Standing, Onida asked, "Would it benefit your leader to have someone who is an energy manipulator on board?"

"And someone very skilled in defensive magic?"

Everyone turned around to find Adam awake. He had obviously been listening to the conversation.

"You cannot!" Elena exclaimed, turning to put a hand on Adam's forehead.

Onida walked over and removed Elena's hand. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over Adam's body, focusing on his head. When she finished, she said, "Well, you should get more sleep. Your body is worn and tired, but your injuries are healed."

Adam swung his legs off the couch and sat up. His head pounded some, but he pushed himself off the cushioned surface and stood. Looking down at Elena, he said dryly, "Take us to your leader."

**.**

Max watched as JT sidestepped a protection line and moved up behind the Ladow's Market building. After clearing most of the roofs and one alley, they had now taken up a position near the rear of the alley behind Ladow's market. As Max watched JT move, it was obvious his friend was in pain. He wanted a look at JT's shoulder. To finish this, it needed tending. His own body felt worn, and the sense of electrical currents running along his skin was uncomfortable. Quickly he pulled the small bottle of potion Adam had given each of them, approached his friend and tapped him in the shoulder.

JT turned to find something right in his face. Jerking back, he was able to focus on the small bottle, then rolled his eyes and pointed to the street.

Max merely stood there, holding the bottle until JT sighed. Placing his things silently on the alley ground, he shifted off his sling and out of his jacket.

Max's eyes widened as he saw the burned and raw flesh of his friend's arm and shoulder. It must have been killing him, especially climbing the ladders with the sling and gear. Swallowing his rebuke, he poured a little of the liquid over the burns and rawness. He could feel JT's shoulder relax as the pain subsided. By the time he put the bottle away, his friend had geared up once more and was peering down the alley. There were three men at the other end watching the street.

Max tapped JT's good shoulder, then pointed to himself and up to the roof. There would certainly be people on the rooftop.

JT nodded and started for the ladder when Max stopped him.

Shaking his head, Max motioned for JT to stay down here, and he would go to the roof.

JT sighed. He could press the issue, but it was easier to just let Max have his way. Thus he nodded, and watched as his friend climbed the ladder and disappeared over the top ledge of the roof. Silently he kept watch on the three in the alley and tried to figure out who else was around. It was inevitable that others they immobilized would get free at some point, and then there would be an all out assault on Main Street. They needed to take the Watchers before that happened.

Footsteps from behind told him Max had completed his task. The Knight-to-be held up two fingers. There'd been two on the roof. Nodding, JT pulled out the plastic baggie. Brows raised in question, he held it up. If they used it in the alley, those down the way would know. They couldn't miss the exposed lines being lit.

Suddenly the three men at the edge of the alley straightened and began looking around, down the street and back through the alley where JT and Max were concealed by shadows.

"I think an All Points was just called," Max murmured in JT's ear. Reaching slowly into his sling, he pulled out three spell bags. It looked as though the Watcher knew pieces were being pulled off their chess board. Pointing to the spell dust, he gave his best friend a nod.

JT smiled. Pinching some of the potion, he stuffed the baggie back into his jacket pocket and pulled out three spell pouches. Nodding once, he blew the spell powder from his fingertips.

The alley lit up and the men down at the other end spun around to face a barrage of spell bags as Max and JT charged.

**.**

Joel and Daniel saw the lights coming from the alley across from the Community Center and heard the altercation and knew there would be no more covert excursions in this battle. Throwing dust in the air, they raced down the main street, sidestepping and jumping over protection lines until five people hurried out into the street to meet them.

Daniel leapt forward and delivered a roundhouse punch to one man's jaw, knocking him about seven feet back where he fell and didn't move. A second man got in a punch, but he countered with a spin kick to his middle, knocking him back. Joel sidestepped his own opponent to deliver a punch to Daniel's falling man, knocking him down and out.

"Thanks!" Daniel chortled, blowing a bit more spell dust in the air.

The sidewalks and road were cracked where Onida's energy had made their mark. Thus there were broken spell and protection lines all over the place. A large crack about seven inches wide went from near Ladow's straight across the street to the Community Center. More people poured from the side streets and from inside the Community Center, spell bags in their hands. Daniel threw two of his spell bags, and two women fell to the ground, retching and scratching at their skin. But the three others continued on, tackling Daniel and taking him down.

Just then Max and JT exploded from the alley near Ladow's and joined the fight. JT grabbed a man from atop of Daniel and delivered a hard punch to his jaw, knocking him out. Daniel kicked the other two off and regained his footing just as JT threw a spell bag directly into one of his opponent's face. The man fell like a stone, and Daniel dealt with the other, dodging a punch and nailing him with a blow to the throat.

Max drug a woman away from Joel and kicked her back onto the street, following that action with a spell bag. The woman merely smiled and knocked the spell bag away with her palm before rising again. He threw another spell bag, but she backhanded that one away as well. "Great," he muttered. Hauling back, he quickly punched her in the jaw. She went down like a bag of rice. "Thought I wouldn't punch a girl? Guess again."

**.**

Cadmael walked down the now deserted alley between the Post Office and the Community Center. He heard the commotion in the streets and knew the fight between their saviors, the townspeople and his coven was in full swing. He couldn't join them right now, but there was one thing he could do immiedtely to help those who had come to their aid: he could take down any remaining protection lines.

Motioning Keith and William to stay behind, he stepped onto the sidewalk, veiled himself and lifted his hands. Calling on the centuries of magical heritage and the magic that had been nurtured in his family for generations, he dismissed the spell lines throughout the street. Speaking with deliberation, he called on the earth to swallow the lines and free the surface from magical intrusion. Then before anyone could really focus on what had happened, he disappeared back into the alley.

Down the wall there was a side door entrance to the Community Center, one rarely used by anyone but the Lebanon town Mayor and his assistant. Closing his eyes, he prayed for strength as he opened the door. "Wait," called a soft voice from behind him. Turning, he saw three people standing a few feet away.

Elena smiled and stepped aside, allowing Onida and Adam to walk forward.

"We'll help," Onida said. "I manipulate energy."

"I'm a defensive magic expert," Adam. "We want to help you stop those inside without loss of life. Just tell us what to do."

Cadmael turned to Elena and felt his eyes moisten. Nodding, he held up his hands. Onida stepped forward and let him sense her abilities. Then Adam did the same. The coven leader felt their power and their strengths. Nodding, he stepped back and felt considerably lighter. Together, they could end this without loss of life if they acted quickly. "Thank you," he murmured. To William and Keith, he said, "Help the others." The two young men nodded and hurried off while he told Onida and Adam how he wanted to proceed.

**.**

Ethan jumped over the body in the alley and stepped up to the street. Joel and Daniel were fighting down near the crossroads of Main and Kansas. Pinching some dust, he blew it out into the street. Not one line lit up. Eyes wide, he blew another pinch full into the air. There were no light signaling spell lines.

"Either Onida's earthquake was more effective on the main arteries…" Elijah said.

"Or someone has taken down the spell lines," Ethan finished.

"It was Cadmael," Keith said, coming down the alley from behind.

Max and JT tackled several townspeople, knocking some out and dusting others. Joel and Daniel were in a full frontal battle.

"Let's get out there before all the good Death Eaters are gone," Elijah remarked. Throwing Ethan a grin, he ran out into the street.

Ethan frowned. "The what?" he asked, before following his brother.

"I know what Death Eaters are," William said, just for clarification purposes.

"Who doesn't?" Looking over at the other man, Keith asked, "Are we joining in?"

William's eyes were wide. "I don't really know how to fight, but I can pull the bodies away so no one trips over them."

Keith laughed. "Then let's do that."

**.**

It was an all-out brawl in the street outside the Community Center. Ethan pulled one of the men off Max and knocked him flat before pulling out a spell bag and throwing it at two men approaching from the northern side of the street. Some of the townspeople looked worse for wear, like they'd been contained and gotten free. Others looked like they'd been held in the wings until the Watchers had need of them. However the townspeople had gotten to Main Street, Ethan figured there had to be a least twenty-five people against the six of them. As odds went, they weren't great, especially with everyone throwing around spells like Piñata candy.

Elijah stood back to back with his brother, knocking a woman back off her feet, then tossing a spell bag in her face. It knocked against a protection spell she wore, but a quick second spell bag seemed to overwhelm the protection, and a thick cloud of blue mist surrounded her head. She wilted, falling to the street and lying still.

Keith ran up, grabbed her arms and began pulling her to the side of the street.

"Here!" Elijah called, tossing him a handful of zip-ties.

Nodding, the young man caught them one handed and continued his chore, William watching his back.

Two men came up on JT, but before they could attack, the young man spun around. He was able to kick one away, but the second slammed a fist into his shoulder. Grimacing, JT used all the Winchester stamina he'd inherited from his indomitable father, shoved down the pain and punched the man in the face, knocking him back several feet. Not deterred, the man charged again, only to get a side kick to his knee, knocking the kneecap out of joint. Screaming, the man went down, where JT delivered a bruising punch to his jaw. The attacker didn't get up. The second man, unfortunately, was already back on his feet, and he rammed the young hunter from the side, knocking him down. HT's wounded shoulder hit the asphalt and pain exploded throughout his body. Before he could retaliate, the weight of his opponent was gone, and Ethan had the man by the scruff of the neck.

"You want to finish this?" Ethan asked.

JT rose and growled, "Definitely." Hauling back, he slammed his fist into the man's face. Down he went in a heap. Dazed, the man flailed about a bit before JT tossed a spell bag in his face. A reddish mist wound around the man's head, causing him to choke and gasp as he fell back onto the asphalt.

JT and Ethan stepped hastily back out of the mist's range. "Yeowch," Ethan muttered, wincing.

"Uncle Joshua sure knows how to make a great spell," JT murmured.

"That he does," Ethan stated, turning to knock away a woman who had a spell bag in her own hand. Yanking the bag away, he pocketed it as JT knocked her to the ground.

"Punch her," Ethan warned.

"I know," JT muttered, giving her a punch to the jaw and knocking her out. He hated fighting women, and wished he could picture them as supernatural monsters rather than innocent victims held under Piruz's spell.

William hurried over, dodged one of the townspeople, and pulled the woman off the street toward where Keith was zip-tying another unconscious person to a drainage pipe attached to the Post Office Building. As he turned to head back into the street, a shadow had him swinging around. James walked to the mouth of the alley, watching the battle.

"What are you doing here?" William asked urgently. "You should be lying down."

"My team is out there," James stated, shoving the sling full of spell bags around his neck. "My place is with them." He started out into the street, only to find his arm held in a firm grasp by William and Keith.

"You nearly died," William said fervently. "You're not fully recovered."

"Onida said I was one hundred percent okay," James argued stubbornly.

"After you rest," Keith countered.

"Rest can wait." James gently pulled his arm free and ran out into the street. Coming up behind Max, he used his the butt of his gun to knock the man on the back of the head, then stepped back as he fell.

Max's eyes went wide. "Jimmy?"

"Behind you!" James shouted, then he spun and hurled a spell bag at another man coming up the street.

Max shook his head. "JT's gonna kill me," he muttered as he ducked a spell bag thrown at his head and slammed his fist into the burly man's face. It was satisfying, as he wanted to do that to James right about now. Instead of dwelling on it further, he made it a point to keep the younger man in his eye sights.

**.**

Inside the Community Center, Onida stumbled through the lobby and down the hallway, crying out, "Help! Help me!" No one emerged from the rooms Cadmael said were being occupied by the three Watchers. Falling dramatically onto the ground outside the first room, she forced her bodily functions to slow and her energy levels to drop, simulating unconsciousness.

The older woman inside the room stared out the door, frowning. Raising a hand, she felt the energy of the person lying there, and found the life signs weak. Was she a townsperson? Closing her eyes, she sent out a call, and a few seconds later the older man had stepped up to Onida, his hand at her throat.

"She is unconscious," the man said.

Frowning, the old woman peered through the doorway just as Onida raised her head and threw an energy orb inside the room. The woman was able to counter the energy quickly, but she wasn't quick enough to stop Onida from taking down the man in the hallway. Rising, the woman's face became a mask of anger and rage as she strode to the door. She threw out a spell at Onida and was surprised to find it blocked by a tall man of Native American descent. The old woman threw another spell, but it was blocked again. Adam wasn't valued by his coven merely for his potion making. He was an adept spell master and had been given the job of guarding Joshua years ago because he'd earned it.

Onida scampered away from the pair and pulled the old man down the hallway. Her way was blocked by a younger woman with long, black hair and the golden skin of South American descent. Quickly she shoved energy at the woman, and wasn't surprised it was countered quickly. If Cadmael didn't finish his spell soon, her energy would be gone in a stalemate. She didn't want to hurt this woman, a woman she knew was Cadmael's wife, but neither did she want to engage in a lengthy battle. She didn't have the energy stores. Pulling in the red and black auras of darkness and fire, Onida pulled the energy into her hands and hurled them at the young woman.

The woman was able to counter one of the reddish-black energy orbs, but not both. The second hit her square in the chest and she dropped like a stone. Hurrying to pull the older man further back into the hall, Onida quickly checked the woman's pulse, and sighed in relief that it was strong and steady. Pulling two pieces of duct tape off her sleeve – a technique Caleb had shown her on a hunt a few months before – she placed the tape over each of their mouths and bound their hands and feet with zip-ties. Neutralizing the three was only the first part of the magical deprogramming, as Cadmael said. Onida would put them to sleep, freeing any conscious effort to fight Cadmael's magic. He would then need to do a spell to free their minds.

Turning, she looked back down the hall to see Adam and the older woman facing off, the sparks and lights of their spells flying back and forth. Soon it became clear that Adam was only drawing out the process to tire the woman out. He was easily countering her moves, though he remained vigilante in the task. Finally he dodged to the side, then flipped an underhanded dark spell at the woman, one that hit her in the chest and knocked her back into the hall door. Slowly she slid down onto the floor, her eyes dazedly half-masted.

Walking forward, Adam said, "Check on Cadmael; I'll secure her in this room, and bring in the others."

Onida nodded and hurried down the hallway into the building's main atrium. There Cadmael was mixing ingredients on the floor, praying and murmuring incantations as he worked. Waiting until he looked up, Onida then said, "They're down."

Cadmael nodded and continued to work.

After a moment of watching the coven leader, Onida dropped down onto the carpeted floor and crossed her legs. A couple minutes later she looked over her shoulder and saw Adam leaning against the doorjamb, his gaze intent on the spell the black-haired coven leader was mixing.

Finally, Cadmael's shoulders slumped slightly and he nodded.

"Ready?" Onida asked softly.

"As I'll ever be," Cadmael murmured. After another moment or two, he straightened his shoulders and climbed to his feet. "Adam, you'll need to protect me from their retaliations should they wake. The wizard will have equipped them with special abilities to protect the binding he placed on them."

Adam nodded.

Turning to Onida, Cadmael said, "I entrust their vital signs to you, energy manipulator."

"I will work to keep them alive."

"Then we must begin." Picking up two bowls and his wand, Cadmael led the way into the room once used by the older woman.

Suddenly the older woman's eyes opened and her lips started to move almost imperceptivity.

Adam, though, had been expecting her to fight and had a spell ready. Stepping forward, he said, "Tunweya najin tallikut," _(shield and protect)_ just as the woman finished her spell. A burst of energy flew from her and smacked into something solid about a foot in front of Adam. Angered, she tried again and again, and each time Adam blocked her spells and prevented her from stopping the coven leader. When another spell came at him, he realized the man was awake and glaring in his direction. He sent a spell of energy draining, and the man's eyes closed, and he went back to sleep. The older woman, however, was not to be deterred, and she was very adept at blocking Adam's sleeping or draining spells. She threw a larger spell at Adam, one that rocked him back on his heels. "Kilinyetikhaiyi," Adam barked, and the spell she'd thrown at him rocketed back onto her, eliciting a cry of pain.

Cadmael was working, his eyes closed. Suddenly he dropped a crystal into the potion bowl and column of light went straight up from the bowl, and like a serpent it wound through the room, settling on the older woman, the old man, and the younger woman. Suddenly the three began to shake, as though their minds were fighting against the magic that had enthralled them. Cadmael continued murmuring, faster and more urgently.

Onida glanced back at Cadmael, then over at the three coven members. She didn't know whether she was supposed to stabilize their bodily functions in the midst of the spell, and whether that would affect the outcome or not. Hesitating, she looked over at Adam, whose eyes were focused on the writhing bodies. Deciding that Cadmael would not have asked her to help keep the three alive if she wasn't meant to help, Onida crawled forward and, focusing on blue, healing light, she touched the younger woman's foot. Immediately the woman took a gasp of air and the shaking calmed. Turning, Onida eyed the coven leader again, but he didn't look as though this interrupted his work, so she did the same to the older woman and the old man.

Suddenly the older woman sat straight up and shouted, "You will not succeed!" and she heaved a massive spell toward Cadmael. Adam leapt into the air, his hands outstretched to block the spell. A concussive boom sounded, and the woman fell back, unmoving.

Onida's eyes went immediately to where Adam lay, and she scrambled over, her heart in her throat. Frantically she reached out for his prone form.

Adam lay still a moment, then shifted slowly onto his side with a grimace. "I'm fine … probably," he mumbled.

Grinning, Onida ran her hands lightly over his body anyway. Finding him bruised and buffeted but in good health, she crawled back to the old woman. Not willing to get too close, in case the woman used another spell, she touched the tip of her toe and felt faint life signs. They were weak, but steady. Pulling at the last remnants of her energy, she sent more blue healing light into the woman's body, then retreated to hunker down near Cadmael. The coven leader looked almost worse than those he was attempting to free, and she needed to be nearby.

Cadmael's face was the color of whey. Sweat ran down his temples and cheeks as he wrestled with the spell that had taken his people. His hands were shaking as they moved over the potion bowl until suddenly, they slowed. Frowning, the coven leader reached out a finger as though he were touching something, then his shoulders relaxed and he smiled. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small packet, then dumped the contents into the bowl.

A glimmering blue light rose up like a ribbon. It curled around Cadmael, then wound its way across the older woman, the man, and the young woman before returning to its source. Only then did Cadmael's hands drop and he slumped forward. "They are free," he murmured, exhaustion in every syllable.

Onida moved over and raised a hand, but Cadmael shook his head. Meeting her eyes, he smiled. "I will be fine soon enough. Do not use your energy on me when there are others more worthy than I."

Adam frowned. "A stronger wizard took your people. You may be unaware, but Piruz has lived for a few thousand years. You could not have prevented the enslavement of your coven, but you had the skill and the power to free them." His eyes went to Onida, then back to Cadmael. "Focus on the fact that they are free, not on how they were stolen."

Cadmael look up, tears in his eyes, and nodded. At that moment a small sigh was heard. Smiling, the coven leader crawled to his wife and pulled her into his arms.

"Cadmael?" the woman murmured. "Where … have you been?"

"On a journey," Cadmael whispered into her hair. "A long journey. But I'm back now."

**.**

The battle in the Lebanon streets was getting dirtier by the moment. Not many were even taking time to hurl spell bags any longer. Fists were flying, kicks were being delivered, and by some hair was being pulled and faces scratched.

"Ouch!" exclaimed James, as he shoved a young woman away. Touching his face, he felt the wetness of freshly drawn blood. "Damn it! That wasn't nice," he growled. Thrusting a spell bag in her face and holding it there till she fell to the street. Unfortunately, the ten seconds he had taken to hold the spell pouch in place was enough for a man to tackle him from behind. Pushed forward, he and the woman both fell to the ground, him on top.

"Get a room," Max drawled, pulling the man off James' back.

James rolled his eyes, used to Max's inappropriate battle banter.

Clocking the guy on the chin, Max dragged him to the sidewalk, but didn't have time to secure him to anything before an older woman threw a spell bag at him. Dodging to the side, he pulled his tee shirt over his mouth as he ran to avoid the noxious, yellowish mist. He was just readying a retaliatory spell bag when the woman went down to reveal JT standing before her. "Nice. Thanks."

JT didn't have a moment to reply as another woman holding a spell bag attacked. He kept the pouch in her hand by immediately reaching out and clasping her fist shut. "No thanks," he remarked. "I've had my fill today."

Max came up behind her and shoved a sleeping potion bag in front of her face, and she fell.

Ethan swung his fist and knocked a tall man to the ground, then tried to secure his hands and feet, but he was pulled away by a woman whose features were twisted in fury. Instead of gentle handling, he merely punched her too, though he pulled that one a bit.

"You couldn't have just pushed her?" Elijah yelled, throwing a woman who was attacking him back several feet.

"No. Mine's down and yours is coming back like a boomerang. Which was the better tactic?"

Elijah spun around, then hauled off and hit the woman in the jaw, knocking her out. "Yours."

Ethan grinned. "Damn straight."

Joel stumbled by, nearly going to his knees before he growled and charged back at a man who was continuing to swing even though no one was in front of him.

Ethan frowned, watching as the man's strange antics were ended when Joel clocked him. Turning an eye to Elijah, he said, "Chaos?"

Ducking a kick aimed at his head, Elijah shouted, "I'd say yes!"

Daniel clipped a tall man with a scratchy beard. Rubbing his knuckles, he said, "When did sophistication in battle go out the window?"

Dragging a younger man by his feet, Joel laughed and said, "Close quarters, mi hombre." At the side of the street, he zip-tied the youth's hands to the mailbox and dove back into the fray.

JT was rearing back to take down a large, burly man with red hair when all of a sudden, many of the townspeople or coven members suddenly stopped in mid-swing or mid-motion. A few stumbled to the side, some dropped to the ground. Others tottered and stared around them in bewilderment. Some were still swinging at whatever was handy; another person, street lamps or air.

Ethan stared, his mind going back to the fight outside Viceroy's Cabaret.

"The spell on the Watchers must be broken," Elijah said.

"Some are still going at it," Ethan said. Pulling out a spell bag, he shoved it into the face of a man who was about to punch the woman at his side.

"Secure the ones still fighting," JT called out. While Max, James and the other hunters began subduing the aggressors, JT watched as fear and panic began to rise within the crowd. These people were confused and floundering. Having something to do often helped calm people more than anything else. Taking a quick look around, he spotted William. Hurrying over, he asked, "You were raised here?"

William nodded.

"Where can we send these people that's large enough for them to get medical treatment, to maybe sleep off the spells, get something to eat and drink."

William looked panicked for a second, then his eyes widened. "The high school! The cafeteria is large enough for everyone, and if people need to rest, there are gym mats. Plus there's the sleeping bags the sports teams use for away games."

JT looked surprised. "Sleeping bags?"

William looked a little sheepish as he said, "The rural Midwest doesn't have a lot of hotels, and less money. Often on away games the players sleep in the gymnasium."

"Oh, well, that works." After a quick looked down the road, JT said, "The high school is four blocks away. Any ideas on how we can get people down there?"

Grinning wickedly, William said, "How about the school bus?" With a wink, he turned and ran off down Main toward the school.

"Okay, that guy is a budding criminal."

"He said he was devious," Ethan said, coming forward. "We need to establish some control. Want me to do it?"

JT look surveyed the crowd. While the cop approach would usually instill calm, when people were this skittish and under the effects of the Chaos Spell, he thought it might be too much. "No, I'll do it." Casting an eye around, he spotted a fire hydrant nearby and hopped on top. "Attention everyone!" Waving an arm in the air, he shouted, "Over here, people!"

"What's going on?" a woman shouted.

"Who are you?" called another man. "What's happening here?"

More voices were being raised as panic and bewilderment were taking over the crowd.

"Please!" JT boomed. "I know you're confused and we're going to get you the answers to all your questions!"

"Why are there people lying down?" One woman shouted.

"Are they dead?" came an hysterical cry, which sent more people into shouting and others to crying.

"No One is Dead!" JT bellowed. At least, he hoped no one was. Infusing his voice with strength and calm, he continued, "We're going to be busing you all to the high school where you can get some water and some first aid help. If there is anyone around you that needs help, please help them now. Let's get organized, and help our neighbors. All your questions will be answered when we're together!"

The urge to help someone else seemed to calm people as nothing else had, and suddenly the townspeople were helping others to their feet, checking injuries and black eyes. Ethan, Elijah and James started ushering people onto the sidewalk near the Community Center to wait for the bus while Joel, Daniel and Max subdued the rowdier element with either a sleeping potion or a strong arm lock.

Onida stepped outside the Community Center and sent out a soothing energy of calm into the panicking crowd. Adam walked around and used his stoic, calm presence to instill a sense of security.

JT was about to call out another message of calm when Cadmael came up beside him. "Let me," he said. "Many of these people know me." Nodding, he jumped off the hydrant and Cadmael stepped up.

Raising his hands, the coven leader called out, "Everyone! Many of you know me. Everyone is going to get help and some water very soon." Scanning the crowd, he spotted the owner of the diner. "Mr. Watson, could you get some hot soup down to the high school?"

"We'll be paying," Max shouted.

Mr. Watson touched on several people and they started moving to the diner.

Mr. Samuelsson, owner of Ladow's said, "I'll get some drinks," and he ambled off followed by several others who wanted to help.

Soon the thirty-five or so people were helping others, cutting zip-ties where needed and hugging. One woman finally walked over to where JT, James and Max were standing. "My family… Where is my family?"

Max frowned. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The woman nodded. "I was told to keep silent, or…"

"You're from the diner."

The woman turned to see Elijah, Ethan by his side. Face crumpling, she began to cry.

"Oh, hey," Elijah murmured. Reaching out, he pulled her loosely into his arms as she began to sob. "Hey, you're all right; you're all right."

"Where…" the woman choked out, "are … my family."

Others started crowding around, as though starting to remember what had happened, asking about their families.

"We'll find them," Elijah called out. "I promise."

Ethan stepped over to the Cadmael, Keith and Elena. "Any idea on where people would be held hostage?"

Keith frowned. "The town is small, and there's only a few places big enough to hold a hundred or so people. They aren't in the Community Center, but there's the high school, the United Methodist Church, and the Midway Co-Op Elevator Factory on the southern edge of town."

"William went to the high school," Elena said fearfully.

"He's going to break into the garage and hijack a bus," Keith said. "No one will be held there."

"James and I will check the high school," Max said, stepping forward. "We secured people there when they attacked us."

"We need to divide up," JT said. "Daniel, Joel, why don't you check the elevator Factory. Ethan and Elijah can check the church."

Adam threaded his way through the milling people, Onida using his tall form to ease her way through the throng. When he reached JT, he said, "We're needed at the park," leaving the question of transportation implied.

JT sighed and nodded. The pain in his shoulder was distracting and tiring, and this wasn't over. He was about to respond when screams from entrance to the Community Center sounded, and several people were suddenly rolling on the ground, fists flying. "Great."

Max rolled his eyes and strode over, followed by Joel and Daniel. All three waded into the ruckus in an attempt to separate the brawlers.

"Isn't the enthralling over?" James gripped, following.

JT looked to Adam. "The Tree," they said simultaneously.

"And the Chaos Spell," JT added.

Onida closed her eyes and tried to send some soothing energy into the crowd, but suddenly her head spun and she stumbled. It was JT who kept her from falling. Smiling, she nodded. "Thanks."

"You've used a lot of energy. Can you get some food?"

Eyeing City Hall, which was two building down from where they stood, she wondered if she had the energy to get there.

"I'll go," said Elena, and she hurried away.

Onida nodded and dropped down onto the sidewalk.

JT rubbed at his forehead then sat down next to her.

"I could clear that up for you," Onida offered.

Shaking his head, JT smiled. "No, thanks. It won't clear up until the Tree is gone."

"I know. And when will that be?"

"When we get you to the park, I guess." JT looked up and down the street, but saw no cars, buses, motorcycles, not even a bicycle. "Think there's a midnight bus?"

**.**

Sam and Caleb were both looking at Dean with identical expressions of horror and astonishment, their mouths handing open.

Shifting uncomfortably, Dean turned to face Death. "Uh, hi." He refrained from saying _how are you?_ Truth was, he didn't remotely want to know; though an irrational part of his brain wanted to know what Death would say. Instead, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"I have unfinished business," Death replied languidly. Turning lightly on his dapper, highly polished shoes, he gave the wizard a very cold smile. "Piruz zadeh Vahid. I have wanted to meet you for a very long time."

Piruz frowned.

The tall, thin man took in the wizard's confusion and chuckled dryly. "Of course. English as a second language … or ninth or tenth, in your case. I'll repeat just this once; laqad 'aradt muqabalatuk lifatrat tawilat jdana."

Piruz frowned. "min 'anat?" _(Who are you?)_

The elegantly attired man smiled, though not one ounce of humor glinted in his eyes. "almawt."

Piruz's eyes widened comically, and his sense of unconcern and smugness dropped away.

Caleb and Sam both turned to Dean. Caleb's voice echoed in Dean's head: _He's scary_.

_Oh, yeah._

Dean had only met Death once in a small pizza parlor in Chicago with the Apocalypse _and_ a pending hurricane on the horizon. The encounter had been frightening in the extreme, and he'd never wanted to meet the casually dangerous supernatural figure ever again.

"lays ladayk alhaqu fi astihabi. 'ana lm 'amt," Piruz said, his face pale and wan. _(You have no right to take me. I am not dead.)_

Death merely regarded the man with a curious expression. "la 'ant last kadhalika. kayf madadat hayatuk?" _(No, you are not. How have you elongated your life?)_

"hadha lays dhu silat," Piruz stated. " ma yuhimu hu 'anah la yumkinuk 'an takhudh shkhsana ghyr mayit." _(That is irrelevant. What is relevant, is that you cannot take a person who is not dead.)_

"tama tahdid maweid wafatik qabl arbet alaf wathalaithimiayat watisein sanatin." _(Your death was scheduled four thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven years ago.)_

"walam yahduth dhalik." Pirux gloated. "kan judulk khatyana." _(And it did not occur. You're schedule was wrong.)_

"jaduli alzamaniu lays khata." _(My schedule is never wrong.)_

Piruz decided to conceded that point, saying instead, "walakun yumkin takhribuh." _(But it can be subverted.)_

Death inclined his head. "fi bed al'ahyan." _(At times.)_

Sam didn't know what the two were saying, but he could tell by the cadence and tone of the conversation, that Piruz was sparing and debating Death. He did _not_ think that was a wise course of action. One did not argue with Death.

"hadha hu mithl hdha alwaqt," Piruz boasted, his confidence rising. "'ana last mytana , ldhlk lays ladayk mutalabat mini." _(This is such a time. I am not dead, therefore you have no claim on me.)_

Death considered the bound man, then turned away in a dismissive manner and strolled over to where Dean was standing. "I do not have all night, so would appreciate you're tending to your business. There is a new pizzeria by the name of Lucali's in New York. I would like to sample the fare while I am … in town," he finished. When no one moved or spoke, Death eyed each man intently, then sighed. "This may take a bit longer than I'd anticipated." Stepping back a few feet, he snapped his fingers and a high-backed leather chair appeared. Taking a seat, he said, "Come now, Dean. I do not have all night."

Dean swallowed and turned slowly to Caleb and Sam. "Come on."

"With an audience?" Sam hissed.

"He'll see it whether he's here or not," Caleb reasoned.

Sam made a nervous sound. "I feel like we're executing someone."

"We _are_ executing someone," Dean muttered.

"I didn't need you to point that out," Sam snapped.

Turning back to Piruz, all three of them tried to ignore the figure sitting still as … well, death, in his leather chair.

Piruz's eyes narrowed as he regarded Merlin's Warriors. "Hoc ipsum homicidium. Non potes facere." _(This is murder. You cannot kill me.)_

Though Dean and Caleb had gotten the gist of the words, it was Sam who stepped forward. "Ut putes te occidit, faciemus? Quam quod est praeter te non obtinuit Fratrum in praeteritis; nostris per bonitatem." _(So you think we won't kill you? That's how you've gotten past the Brotherhood in the past; using our goodness.)_

"Tu honesta hominum." _(You are honorable.)_

Dean stepped forward, eyes narrowed. He'd definitely caught that last part. While Caleb and Sam were as honorable as they came, he had done things much less ethical. "I'm not that honorable." He would do what he needed to do to spare future generations from having to deal with this monster, especially his children.

Suddenly Piruz muttered a few words and a spell shot out, hitting Caleb squarely in the chest. He flew back several feet. Grunting in pain, Caleb was, nonetheless, back on his feet in a flash.

Dean reached for the wizard, but was thrown back as well. At another word from Piruz, long gashes like those made from massive claws suddenly appeared on Sam's chest. Stumbling back, Sam was kept from falling by Caleb's grip on his arm.

"You good?" Caleb asked as he blocked another spell with the Dragon's Talon.

Sam touched the shirt and his fingers came away red. Growling, he borrowed a phrase from Dean, saying, "I liked that shirt."

Caleb grinned and blocked more spells as he tried to protect Sam as well. "Where did we leave our shields?"

Sam snorted in laughter, a sure sign he was nervous and exhausted. "I think mine is watering the lawn."

"Guess mine is too," Caleb remarked. Reaching out, he blocked another couple of spells. "Stay behind me. The Talon is faster at countering spells that either of us."

Sam nodded and tucked in behind Caleb, but his gaze went to the place where he'd last seen Dean. His brother had dodged another couple of spells and as he watched, a shield sprang up in Dean's hand, blocking another. Shaking his head, Sam marveled at how adept his brother had become at using his Guardian skills.

Dean frowned as he dodged another spell slung in his direction. Piruz was bound in the silver. Was there another way he could use the silver to end this?

Piruz was muttering and throwing spells with such swiftness and accuracy it was truly unnatural. Eyes following the action playing out in front of him, Death casually pulled an ornate watch gold watch from his pocket, the intricate matching chain dangling slightly, and checked the time. A spell flew his way, though it crinkled into smoke a couple inches away. Death merely slipped his watch back into his pocket and rearranged his suit jacket.

A wave of power buffeted Piruz. A quick glance at the tree line showed Joshua, his arms outstretched. "Mage," he hissed vehemently. Ignoring the pain of the spell as well as the witch, Piruz kept his focus on thwarting these three unusual Warriors. He could not believe they would murder him in cold blood. That was not his experience with Merlin's Chosen, and it angered him greatly. If he couldn't count on Knights to do the proper thing, then the world was truly lost. For perhaps the first time ever, he felt fear and a desperation to escape. With a word, Piruz opened a portal and sent it flying toward Merlin's Child, the producer of silver. If the child were gone, then the silver that bound him would, he hoped, disappear.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, and both he and Caleb started to run in his direction.

Dean's eyes widened. Instantly a thick silver spire shot up from the ground. It looked somewhat like a horse's hitching post complete with a silver ring at the top. Grasping the ring, he pulled some moisture into his free hand. At the moment the portal would have engulfed him, he flung out his wet hand and pictured a web of silver. The portal in space abruptly halted a mere six inches away from Dean's boots. The portal and the silver filament merged slightly, with the golden sunlight glimpsed through the window silvering slightly, and the portal winked away.

Piruz's eyes widened in surprise. "ma hdha?" _(What is this?)_

Death looked on with more interest than a moment before. "Ah, so that is how you escaped," he mused. "A lost art, conjuring cracks in space. Clever."

Joshua had seen the portal go after Dean. This needed to end. Closing his eyes, he called on every ounce of Triad power he had at his disposal. Murmuring a quick incantation, he flung the spell at Piruz.

Power snapped around Piruz's body like the crackle of flame on a log. Back arching in agony and pain, Piruz screamed. Caleb took advantage of the opportunity Joshua had presented him and rushed the wizard.

Sam raced over to where Dean was lying.

"Sonofa…" Dean grunted, pushing himself up off the grass. The moment he let go of the post, it melted into water. Nodding to Sam, he clamored to his feet.

Through the pain, Piruz used every last ounce of strength he had to fling spell after spell at Caleb, but the Dragon's Talon countered every move until finally the Knight was right in front of the wizard. Without hesitation, Caleb sank the Talon deep into Piruz's throat.

Red light flared from the wound as blood poured down the wizard's throat and onto the cloth he'd so painstakingly carried through time, that last remnant of the cloths woven and dyed in his parent's shop. Eyes wide in disbelief, Piruz choked, desperately trying to force air around the blade lodged in his throat.

Breathing hard, weariness and stress causing his limbs to shake slightly, Caleb pushed himself laboriously to his feet. Staring down at the witch who had killed untold numbers of people through the centuries, who had terrorized this town and threatened the world, he whispered, "I should have done that two days ago," as Dean and Sam approached.

Eyes clouding over, Piruz slowly slipped to the grass, and the silver melted away from his body like water.

"Excellent," Death said. Rubbing his hands together, he rose from his comfortable chair, and the chair vanished.

The Triad whipped around, startled. They'd forgotten Death had been watching and waiting. Slowly they backed away as Death approached the body.

"Come along," Death said casually.

As one, Dean, Caleb and Sam's eyes jerked back to where Piruz lay. The thick, grayish figure of a man rose from the body.

Frowning, the wizard glanced around at the Triad of the Brotherhood, then over to Death. After a moment, he looked down and his eyes widened. "la! hdha la ymkn 'an yakuna!" _(No! This cannot be!)_

Death merely pulled an ornate box from his coat pocket. Opening it, the ghostly figure of Piruz became vapor and poured inside. Snapping the lid shut, Death slipped it back inside his jacket. Finally he inclined his head to the three men standing nearby. "I am off to New York. Good night, Gentlemen." Turning, the figure of Death walked back into the white mist and disappeared. The haze rolled up behind him like a carpet, leaving the park grounds dark, green and empty in his wake.

No one spoke for several minutes until Caleb finally broke the silence. "That, was one, scary, dude."

"You spoke to him during the Apocalypse," Sam murmured.

Dean nodded.

"How did that go?" Caleb asked, turning to eye his friend.

"I'm lucky I didn't soil my shorts," Dean quipped, though his tone was flat.

The silence in the park was almost heavy, a solid weight after the explosions and spells of the battle. In the distance, Dean could still hear activity coming from the town, and knew that Lebanon was still in the throes of battle. This wasn't over yet.

Caleb retrieved his blade and wandered toward the magnificent Tree, getting his first up close and personal look. "Wow," he murmured. "It's … beyond words." Luscious fruit hung from their stems, glowing slightly in the night. Graceful branches sprouted with intensely green leaves, all combining to make the Tree perfect. After the fighting, after... He needed this balm to his soul. "I wish I had paint and a canvas," he mused.

Dean smiled. Caleb was a magnificent Knight and Warrior, with the heart of a poet. When Piruz said _honorable_, he was talking about Caleb.

"Don't eat the fruit," Sam commented, only to receive an elaborate eye roll from Caleb.

"That ship has already sailed," Dean murmured, staring up at the glorious Tree.

Sam smiled at his brother, then winced slightly as a particularly sharp pain stabbed behind his eyes. His head was pounding again, or maybe still pounding. The fight with Piruz must have distracted him from the pain; not to mention the terrifying experience of meeting Death. Looking up, he said, "There's still chaos going around, if my head is any measure."

Dean swung around quickly. "You okay?"

"Pain, pounding like a migraine," Sam answered as his eyes went to Caleb.

"A jack hammer," Caleb concurred, though his eyes remained on the magnificent Tree.

"Is it the Spell or the Tree?" Sam asked.

"Probably both, unless the Spell died with Piruz," Dean said. "Is that possible?"

"Maybe," Sam said, "but it was tethered to the Tree, not to him. I don't know if a spell dies when the caster dies."

"When Agatha Hennings put that spell on me, it didn't die when she did," Caleb stated, finally turning and walking over to the other two. "Joshua had to counter it with a potion."

"Then let's ask…" Dean turned to see Joshua approaching, Ryker supporting him under the arm.

Caleb hurried to his stepbrother's other side, asking urgently, "Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right," Joshua remarked testily. Then as Caleb continued his visual assessment, he admitted, "Tired, I'm very tired."

"Sit down," Caleb said, helping Joshua down onto the grass. After making sure he was all right, he turned to Dean. "I'm going to check on the people…" he made a vague gesture to the people Piruz had used in his spell. They were all still lying in the field.

Dean nodded. When he looked back at Joshua, the older man was staring at Piruz's body. "We'll salt and burn him as soon as we check on the others."

"We'll take care of that," Joshua said, nodding to Ryker. "I want to do a ritual to prevent him from coming back."

"Salt and burning does that."

"For most, yes," Joshua agreed, "but Piruz was an exceptional witch. I wouldn't put it past him to have worked a spell that would enable him to return from death should death ever occur. This ritual will prevent that."

"Oh, all right."

"Before you start," Sam interjected, "can you tell us about the Chaos Spell? Since Piruz completed it, did it die with him, or is it still in play?"

"Still in play, since Piruz tied the spell to the Tree," Joshua said. "When I draw my spell line around the Tree, it should contain and neutralize it."

"The spell you're using to send back the Tree will cancel the Chaos Spell?" Sam asked.

"Part of my spell," Joshua confirmed. "I figured it might be a problem, so I worked the neutralization into the circle portion of my spell. While I suspect the Chaos Spell would have been neutralized once the Tree was returned to Eden, its poor manners to send a compromised Tree back home."

Caleb walked up just then and overheard Joshua's last statement. Grinning, he shook his head. Leave it to Joshua to worry about how something looked. Of course, after spending decades in the Public Relations game, it was probably second nature at this point.

"The people?" Dean asked.

"I checked the ones on this side of the circle. Their pulses are steady, breathing is fine. They look like they're either unconscious or put to sleep."

Ryker asked, "Will neutralizing the Chaos Spell cause pain for any of the people involved in the original spell?"

"Possible, but unlikely," Joshua said with a slight shrug. "I believe they were used in maintaining the spell that bound the Tree, not the Chaos Spell. They were tools, like the people enthralled in Lebanon. My guess is that with Piruz's death, all the townspeople and coven members have been freed, though the Chaos Spell – being bound to the Tree – remains."

Sam looked over at the people lying about on the grass, and said, "We'll gather the people and carry them over to the tree line near the parking area." He, Ryker and Caleb started toward the sleeping victims.

Joshua looked behind him to the tree line, then over towards the town. "Adam and Onida should have been here by now."

"You need them to make all this happen?" Dean asked. At Joshua's nod, he said, "Okay, when we finish taking these people to the tree line, Sam will stay here with you and Ryker, help with the spell where he can. Caleb and I will head into town and bring back Adam and Onida."

"We'll need JT, James and Max as well," Joshua added.

Dean nodded, his eyes drifting to the body of a young woman lying near the Tree. "Maybe we can bring back some help to tend the ones here."

"My advice would be to administer a sleeping draft if they're stable, and leave them for now," Joshua said. "I don't want the townspeople coming to the park until our business is completed."

"Will do." Dean eyed his Advisor and friend, and said, "Get some rest."

After several minutes spent carrying twelve unconscious people to the side of the park, Dean exchanged a few words with Sam before he and Caleb headed for the Impala. Sam and Ryker gathered all of Joshua's gear and carried it out into the park.

When Dean turned the key in the ignition, the welcome purr of the Impala's engine relaxed and comforted him. The evening had been exhausting and unsettling, and it wasn't over yet.

As they backed out of the parking slot, Caleb glanced over at Dean. This had to be one of the most bizarre hunts ever … at least until the next one. But it wasn't every day that Death, actual _Death_, came sauntering into your presence. It certainly made one consider one's own mortality. As they turned onto US 191, he confessed, "That was the creepiest thing I've ever seen."

Dean nodded, pointing the car toward Lebanon and gunning the engine. "I know."

There was more silence until Caleb said, "I mean, I never thought of Death as being personish, you know?"

Nodding again, Dean merely said, "Yeah." He _did_ know.

"And I've never seen a ghost get out of his own body before." Road noise hummed through the confines of the car. "So … that's a first."

Dean couldn't help it; he huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, that's a first."

After a moment, Caleb added, "Let's not meet up with him again."

Dean smiled, but didn't reply. His first meeting with Death had been the scariest moment in his life, and he had never wanted to repeat that experience. Today, he thought it had been worse. Maybe meeting in a place as mundane as a pizzeria had lessened the impact of whom he was meeting. … No, it really hadn't. But in the dark of night in the middle of an empty park, the impact of Death sitting casually in a high-backed chair was just too creepy to ignore.

There was silence for a bit before Dean said, "You had to do it."

Caleb slumped slightly and stared out the window. "At least I didn't have to execute him."

Dean glanced over. He knew his friend, and knew that simply cutting Piruz's throat would have been against Caleb's Knightly code. That Piruz had fought them had made it easier.

As they approached Lebanon, Caleb said, "Watch out for protection lines."

Dean nodded and stopped a couple miles before entering the town. Getting out, Caleb took a handful of spell dust and blew it out into the air. He climbed back inside and watched, but nothing happened.

"You think the dampeners are still working?"

Caleb shook his head. "No. The lines went back up," he tapped his head. "But it looks like they're down now. Just drive slowly, and I'll continue to let Joshua's spell dust loose."

"I thought Adam made it," Dean mused, putting the car in gear.

"May have been Ryker for all I know. There was a lot of spell making going on."

"Ain't that the truth," Dean murmured. A small spasm went through his body and the car lurched to the side.

"Deuce?"

"Just…" Dean shook his head. "Stupid stuff keeps coming up in my head, then the buzzing…" Gritting his teeth, he refocused his attention on getting to town in one piece.

Caleb nodded. Joshua's potion bag had been helping, but he kept hearing the annoying sound too, though the further they moved away from the park, the better he felt. He hoped Sam was okay.

Baby's tires shed the paved road they approached the dark shadow of Joe's Gas Station at the edge of Lebanon. "Slow down," Caleb said. Leaning out of the car, he let loose more sell dust. After watching it disappear down the road for a moment, he tried again. "Nothing." Settling back into the passenger's seat, he surmised, "Looks like the protection lines are down."

Dean pressed on the accelerator and drove down Main Street. As they passed empty houses and darkened buildings, they drove up slowly on several people milling about the street and apparently heading into a building. He picked out JT standing on the sidewalk, directing people traffic. Smiling, he got as close as he dared, then put the Impala in park.

JT looked over and held up a hand in a wave.

Caleb climbed out and leaned on the Impala's passenger door. "Anyone need a ride?"

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: _

_My Guest and summerb7l21 – So sorry to say Death didn't do the deed, Caleb did! But having the Triad kill a human was a concern I also had. But Piruz would never have given up, and Caleb was a valiant Knight protecting the world. In the end, they did what needed to be done. That's the life of a hunter._

_Thank you everyone for commenting! I appreciate it more than I can say!_


	29. Chapter 29

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 29

.

The Impala cruised back down Main Street followed by a blue Ford pickup truck belonging to none other than Mr. Arnold, the man who had threatened Elijah Matthews in the café earlier that day. He rather sheepishly said he "owed" them and wanted to help out. Thus the '67 Chevy carried Dean, Caleb, Onida and Adam, while JT drove the pickup truck with James and Max on board.

Caleb shifted in his seat and looked into the back, asking, "You know what's happening next?"

"All I know is that we're doing a spell to call back the seeds," Onida relayed, indicating her and Adam. "Or Adam is doing the spell. I'm along for energy support."

"You're calling the mineral within the seeds back here, and I'm amplifying your energy so it can reach the seeds," Adam explained.

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror. "You can do that? From all around the country?"

"The spell is sound," was all Adam said.

Caleb blinked, and gave Onida a questioning look.

"Yeah, he kept saying that to me too," Onida complained, though she gave the stoic man a smile.

"And after that?" Caleb asked.

Adam gave a small shrug. "I don't know. I believe Joshua has a plan, but I don't know what it is."

Nodding, Caleb turned around and watched the road. He was irritated and wanted to yell at Adam for not knowing what was going on, but knew that was the influence of the Tree. They were all on edge, despite the enhanced spell pouches Joshua had made for them. As he glared out the window, a blue light stole through his mind, calming and cool. The tension in his shoulders loosened and he slid a little lower in the seat, relaxing. _Thank you_, he said to Onida. The blue winked slightly, then retreated.

Dean turned left onto Route 191 toward the park. The closer they got, the more wound up he felt. He knew Caleb was tense as well, and his grip on the wheel tightened. Suddenly brilliant lights flashed before them as the high beams of an eighteen-wheeler flipped on. The massive horn screamed as the driver rushed at them straight on in their lane. Onida screamed.

"Deuce!" Caleb exclaimed even as Dean swerved onto the shoulder of the road, tires grinding up the dirt and shrubs along the roadside. Everyone held on tightly to whatever afforded them some security as the car skidded and slid. Only Dean's masterful driving kept them from careening off into the trees. After muscling them back onto the road, he pulled the car off to the side. Breathing hard, he turned and searched frantically for the blue truck to their rear.

"They're fine," Caleb gasped, his heart still racing. "They saw us swerve and did the same. They're fine."

Dean, however, needed to see for himself. Jumping from the car, he jogged back to the small truck, where JT had already rolled down the driver's side window.

"We're fine, Dad," JT called, giving Dean a wan smile. "We saw the truck and pulled off to the side of the road."

Dean's eyes went from JT to James to Max, before he nodded. Dropping his chin to his chest, he blew out a relieved breath.

James shook his head slightly. "He was driving without headlights."

"Until he wasn't," Max mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"We're okay, Dad," JT repeated softly.

Dean knew it was all the turmoil from the Tree that was making their emotions seem larger than life. He needed to rein it in if they were to get this done. Straightening his shoulders, he nodded. "Then let's get on our way, huh?"

James smiled and nodded as Max said, "Let's do it."

Dean jogged back to the Impala and climbed inside. Once they reached the park, they climbed from the vehicles and started for the park. It wasn't until they'd passed the scattered trees, picnic benches and trash cans, that James, JT and Max faltered. More than a dozen people lay around the edges of the park grass, hands zip-tied together.

"What's with the bodies?" James asked. "Are they all right?"

"They're fine," Caleb explained. "Like those in town, they were used by Piruz in his spell. Right now they're asleep until we send the Tree away.

Nodding, JT looked out into the park and saw Joshua and Ryker walking in a large circle around the Tree while Sam knelt nearby working over some bowls. "Are they making a protection circle?"

"A purification circle," Adam said. Though he knew these people wouldn't have been hurt, they'd been an integral part of Piruz's spell, and he wanted to ensure that no one was in distress.

Caleb stepped onto the grass, his whole body feeling as though it were tearing itself in two. He got a few feet before bending over, one hand on his middle, the other on his knee for support.

"Caleb!" Onida exclaimed, hurrying to his side.

"I'm … okay," Caleb muttered. Swallowing hard, he pushed himself up and started walking again.

"Let me help," Onida said.

Giving a definitive shake of his head, Caleb said, "No, you've got a job to do, and I don't think it's going to be easy. You need to save your strength."

Onida gritted her teeth. Caleb was right, in that she had no idea how much energy calling the seeds back would take, and she'd used much more than her usual stores tonight already. But Caleb was in pain now. She looked around at the others. Max was completely white, and JT and James both looked pale. With Adam it was difficult to tell, as his usually stoic nature was a tough nut to crack, and his natural golden skin tone didn't give away a lot. But she thought he was looking a little grayer than normal. Dean's back was to her, so she couldn't see his face, but the stiff set of his shoulders told her the Guardian of the Brotherhood was feeling the effects of the Tree, as they all were.

Dean approached Sam. "How's it going?"

Sam sighed and looked up.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, dropping to his knees. "Are you all right?"

Sam's face was white and wet with sweat. "I'm…" he swallowed, "I'm fine … ish." He gave his brother a wan smile. "It's not easy being this close to the Tree for any length of time." Focusing more on Dean, he frowned. "You don't look too good either."

"Whichever it is, the Tree or the Chaos Spell, it's a bitch," Dean growled. "How are we on sending it away?"

"Not sure." Sam waved a hand over the bowls in front of him. "Joshua just said to arrange all these bowls in a certain order, and I've been doing that while he and Ryker cleanse away Piruz's spell so they can recreate one of their own." He shrugged. "I'm just here for window dressing."

"You're much more than that," Dean asserted fervently, receiving a smile in return.

Joshua and Ryker were walking a slow circuit around the Tree, Ryker in front swinging a thurible suspended from three metal chains. Smoke flowed from the sides as his lips moved. In his other hand had held a tall amphora from which he was carefully dribbling something on the line. Joshua followed about four feet behind holding a flask of oil and a thick bundle of something green over the line.

Caleb walked up, frowning. "What are they doing?"

"Purifying the old line," Sam said. "Joshua said the old line was a binding spell, to keep the Tree inside. Ryker is using frankincense and myrrh to purify the old line while Joshua follows with rosemary, signifying a new beginning."

As they watched, Ryker stumbled slightly. Adam looked alarmed, but though he gave a few involuntary steps forward, he remained on the sidelines. When Joshua stepped forward and spoke to the young man, his shoulders relaxed a bit. Ryker was listening, and after a moment, he straightened and continued moving forward. Adam's eyes were glued to the pair, watching their slow cadence until he finally walked determinedly forward.

"Adam!" Sam called softly after the man, but Adam either didn't hear or ignored him.

Adam walked up to Joshua and waited for the other man to pause. He then whispered a word or two. At Joshua's nod, he moved up beside his son, gently took the thurible from his hand and moved in front. Taking the lead, he swung the smoking metal from side to side, murmuring the ages old incantation for purification, freeing his son to pour the oil onto the old line. Very soon he could tell that being this close to the Tree was not for the faint of heart. Only considerable years of focusing on difficult spell work and incantations kept his head in the game.

Ryker seemed to take strength and heart from watching his father's straight back and steady footfalls, and he followed, repeating the purification incantation and pouring out pure frankincense and myrrh oil on the old binding spell line.

Dean looked down and saw that Sam was watching the tableau around the Tree, having already finished arranging the bowls for Joshua. Rising, he said, "Everyone back to the tree line. Let's get at least some distance between us and the Tree."

No one needed telling twice as they all turned and walked away. Once they were in the shelter of the park rim, Onida sat down beneath one of the small trees. Leaning back, she closed her eyes, taking advantage of this time to collect her strength for the task she and Adam would soon undertake. When someone tapped her shoulder, she looked up to see James handing her a bottle of water. Smiling, she took it. "Thanks."

James' lips quirked slightly. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Caleb watched the exchange before moving away as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He needed to check in with Ethan, see what was happening in the town.

James walked over to his brother and Max as they remained by the grass edge, watching Ryker as he made his way around the circle. "Does anyone know how we're going to get rid of the Tree?"

"Dad does," Max stated confidently, no doubt whatsoever in his tone.

Sam glanced at Dean, who returned the look with a shrug of his shoulders; nope, he didn't know either.

James merely nodded. With a sigh, he turned and dropped down a few feet away, leaning back into a tree like Onida.

JT watched his brother a moment, then went over and sat nearby. "You feeling all right?"

"Yeah, tired," James said. He looked up at Max. The young Knight-to-be was standing watch over them, though his eyes were still trained on Ryker, Adam, and Joshua. "Wouldn't mind a bed and a long night's sleep, but I'm good."

JT smiled, nodding. He wouldn't mind a bed either, preferably at mom and dad's on the farm.

Caleb returned to where Sam and Dean stood. "Ethan said the hostages were being kept in the Elevator Factory. By the time our guys got there, the ones guarding them were already setting everyone free. Obviously there was a lot of confusion and tension in the place."

"Guess so," Sam mused. "The people keeping you captive are suddenly setting you free and trying to be sympathetic. I imagine that was tough to take."

"Some of the captives took advantage of their freedom to deliver some payback," Caleb stated. "There was a lot of aggressive emotions flying around all mixed up with joy and relief at families being reunited. But they'll surface again, and soon."

"And the kids?" Dean asked. He couldn't imagine tots and babies being held in the factory.

"The younger kids and infants were being held in the church basement," Caleb relayed. "Ethan couldn't believe he and Elijah were so close and had no idea. The pastor had sequestered the children away from the adults, since so many odd things were happening. Along with the church pianist and the secretary, they were able to keep the kids fed and safe."

Sam's look incredulous. "The parents were okay with that?"

"The ones under the spell didn't seem to notice. So if children were in the mix, the pastor took those kids under his wing. When other families were being detained or family members were taken hostage, many younger families brought their children to the church for safe keeping. The pastor has been watching out for them all ever since."

Dean shook his head. He wondered if Piruz even thought of children and babies being without their parents, without care or food. He figured not.

"As for the people we tied up or secured throughout the town," Caleb continued, "Joel and Daniel along with Keith and William are working to set them free and send them down to the high school."

"How are Ethan and Elijah handling everything?" Sam asked.

"They're working with the town sheriff and pastor on setting up a triage at the high school gymnasium. It's the only place large enough for everyone to gather all at once, including the coven members. They've arranged to bring in food, some cots, bandages, stuff like that. But several fights have broken out already, and questions are starting to rise about what happened."

"Like why family members and people they'd known all their life were holding them hostage?" Sam stated.

Caleb nodded. "Joel and Daniel are helping the deputy keep a lid on the violence."

"_The_ deputy?"

"Lebanon has a population of a little over two hundred people," Caleb commented dryly. "You were expecting a police force?"

Dean gave Caleb the finger.

Attempting to keep the conversation on track, Sam said, "If we don't tell them something soon, this is going to tear the town apart."

Sighing, Caleb nodded. "It's not like we can explain about people being enthralled by a wizard. These folks are the practical heart of the Midwest. They won't believe in magic, covens or crafters."

"Except the ones in a coven," Sam snarked, only to earn a glare from Caleb.

"What about the coven leader guy," Dean asked. "What's his name…?"

"Cadmael," Sam supplied.

"Yeah. Can't he do anything? Cast a spell of forgetting or something?"

"A spell on the entire town?" Sam said skeptically. "You want to traumatize them more?"

"Okay," Dean huffed. "Maybe not a spell. What about a potion?"

"The coven isn't from Lebanon," Caleb countered. "The people here have no reason to trust what they say or drink what they make."

"Plus you're talking about making a complicated potion," Sam said.

"Josh could make it," Caleb interjected.

"Yeah, he could," Sam stated. "But that would take time. I'd say we tell them something that sounds reasonable right now. What we don't need if for them to come here and start interfering. We can wipe their memories later."

Dean nodded. "Okay, let's head back and I'll tell the people … something. Sam, you're the most sincere out of all of us. Chime in when my story needs shoring up."

Sam sighed and nodded. He was used to his brother throwing him into the deep end with no oar after all this time. "Is it too much to ask what the story is?"

Caleb merely grinned as Dean said, "Yup! I don't know yet."

Sam snorted, and was about to comment when he looked over Dean's shoulder. Without another word he jogged past Dean and Caleb straight for the Tree.

JT walked over, James and Max on his heels, and asked, "What's up?"

"Looks like show time," Caleb said, watching Adam and Ryker finish the purification spell and walk slowly away from the Tree.

Onida pushed herself to her feet, knowing it was almost time for the spell she and Adam would perform.

Joshua was moving slowly over the last of the binding circle with his rosemary. As they watched, Joshua finished and strode over to Sam, Ryker and Adam. They spoke for a moment, then Ryker and Joshua picked up two bowls.

Adam walked half way to the tree line, and after a moment he spotted Onida and gestured for her to come.

Swallowing down her fear, Onida started forward, only to find Caleb's hand clasped strongly in hers. "You shouldn't be near the Tree until absolutely necessary," she said.

"I've got Joshua's protection," Caleb said, indicating the spell pouches around his neck. "I'll walk you there then come back." Giving her a small smile, he finished, "We're in this together."

Onida nodded and gripped his hand tight. Together. It was a wonderful word.

Dean turned and looked toward the town. The jeopardy of the Chaos Spell and the proximity of the Tree to Lebanon posed a real threat. Cities that had been exposed to just the seeds had experienced extreme violence. For Lebanon, having just come out of a traumatic experience, the townspeople would feel out of control, afraid. Fear impacted thinking and decision making; it made people unpredictable. Add to that the influence of the Chaos Spell and the impact of the Tree, there was no telling what the townspeople would do. They needed to protect Joshua and Ryker until the Tree could be sent back to Eden. Turning to JT, he said, "I'm heading into town, see if I can come up with something to calm things down."

JT frowned. "The influence of the Tree won't let things calm down long."

"There are two sides of this Tree-coin," Dean said. "If needed, we'll secure the more aggressive ones and let the givers watch the cell doors. I want you guys to stay here, protect Joshua so he can get the Tree out of here."

"We got it covered," JT stated.

Dean gave JT a squeeze on the shoulder, then turned and jogged toward the Tree. Joshua was speaking with Adam and Onida while Ryker set bowls and some pouches together in what would obviously be a circle for the pair. Walking up to Caleb, he said, "Let's get back into town."

"You want to try and calm things down," Caleb said.

"If I was the Sheriff, I'd want answers, pronto."

"Ethan's there, and he's got a badge."

"If things are going to get as wild as they were in Houston, we should be on hand."

"Agreed." Caleb turned and over to where Onida was standing with Adam and Ryker near a decent sized protection circle.

"Take care of things here while I touch base with Josh," Dean said, nodding toward Onida. He walked over to Sam and Joshua, who were deep in conversation, and waited for a break in the conversation. When it came, he asked, "How are things going?"

Joshua sighed. "Good, fine. Adam and Onida are about to get started, then when they're finished, Ryker and I will draw a new line around the Tree so we can complete the spell to send it back to Eden."

"Excellent," Dean said. "I want to hear everything about the spell later. Now, Sam? Let's get going."

"What?" Joshua exclaimed. "Where are you going?"

"Into town," Dean said. "The people need someone to tell them what's going on."

"It can't be you," Joshua stated firmly. "You're needed here."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean? You're the one doing the spell to send the Tree back, not me. They need help."

"And you're needed _here_," Joshua said again. "I need you for the spell."

"What? Why?"

Running a hand through his blondish white hair, Joshua said, "I don't have time to explain right now. I need you here for the spell, so you can't go."

Dean didn't understand, but he trusted Joshua. He'd thrown this mess into their Advisor's lap, and if he was needed, so be it. "Okay, then Caleb and Sam…"

"No, they're needed here too."

Dean ran a hand over his face in a patented gesture known by them all; it meant that his brain was going a mile a minute to come up with a solution. Finally he said, "Okay. I'll send…"

"JT, James and Max are needed here too."

"Seriously?" Dean exclaimed.

Joshua nodded. "I'm not trying to be difficult, and I know the townspeople have to be on the extreme edge right now. But the spell to send the Tree back needs all six of you."

Dean stepped away, one hand massaging the back of his neck as he thought of what to do. Maybe Ethan and his badge were all that would be needed to calm the townspeople. But if the aggressors needed to be subdued, would Ethan, Elijah, Daniel and Joel be enough to take down a mob?

Caleb walked up, eyeing the three men, waiting to see what was happening.

"Okay, hang on," Sam interjected, looking to Joshua. "You've already purified Piruz's line, and Adam and Onida still need to call the seeds back. Then you and Ryker need to make the protection circle around the Tree before you do the spell, right?"

Joshua nodded, saying, "But you three and the boys need to be here when I make the spell circle."

"Okay, but you can't do the spell circle until Adam and Onida finish their task; is that right?"

"Yes," Joshua said, his tone infused with weariness.

"How about we leave right now and try to get the town's people settled," Sam suggested. "Ethan said triage was set up in the high school. That's on the north end of town, and we could be there in, like, three minutes. How long can you give us before we need to be back?"

Looking highly uncomfortable, Joshua ended up merely sighing. He didn't want them going anywhere. Things happened, and the spell needed them here. But they would all do what needed to be done. Finally he gave Sam a nod and said, "Twenty minutes. Then you've got to be back here. I can't do this spell without you three. It won't work."

Sam looked over at Dean. "Compromise," he said.

Dean gave their Advisor a slow nod. "Then if we're going to be back in twenty minutes, we'd better get going. JT, James and Max will watch your back here."

Turning, the three took off running across the grass and through the straggled trees around the park to the Impala. Once inside, Dean rammed the car into reverse and they took off.

"Twenty minutes isn't a lot of time to calm people down," Caleb said.

"Then we'd better be damned persuasive," Dean muttered.

"Know what you're going to say yet?" Sam asked.

"No, but I'm thinking. So shut up."

Caleb turned and eyed Sam, who rolled his eyes. They both hoped the whopper Dean thought up this time would be a good one.

**.**

Adam placed the bowl between him and Onida. Inside was a thick paste of ingredients with a thin film of liquid floating on top.

"How do I get the seeds to go to the Tree?" Onida asked.

"Joshua said the seeds wanted to go back to the Tree," Adam said. "I trust his judgment."

Blowing out a calming breath, Onida said, "Yeah, okay."

Giving her a confident nod, Adam said, "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Just focus on the minerals and calling them with your energy. Don't think about where they are now; just call this specific mineral."

Onida nodded again. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused on the mineral inside the seeds. To her energy, they were slightly acidic with a little bit of a citrus tang and a floral overtone. They were different from anything else she'd ever sensed in nature, so it was no problem focusing on that unique resonance. She was focusing so hard, everything and everyone else began to fade away.

Adam nodded, his own eyes closed as he worked the spell that would bring the seeds to the Tree. His hands moved over the potion, and he worked on extending Onida's energy to the furthest corners of the continent. Lower and lower his hands went until he touched the cool liquid at the top of the potion. His fingers tingled as the liquid began to swirl.

Joshua watched what was happening, then gave an inaudible sigh. Rubbing a hand over his forehead, he suddenly listed to the side. Thankfully Ryker was standing nearby, and he quickly stepped in, preventing Joshua from falling.

Max, watching from the edge of the park, immediately took off running to his father followed by JT and James.

"I'm … all right," Joshua breathed, giving Ryker a pat on the shoulder.

"Dad!" Max exclaimed softly, trying not to disturb Adam or Onida. Gripping Joshua arm, he moved to help the older man sit down. JT knocked a bottle of water against Max's shoulder. Nodding his thanks, he took the bottle and handed it to his father. "Here, drink some water."

Joshua nodded his thanks and took the bottle of water. After drinking half, he said, "I'm fine. Just the Tree," he waved a hand.

Ryker squatted down. "You need some rest. I'm making you a protection circle. It'll block out the Tree and the Chaos Spell."

Joshua's eyes went to Adam and Onida, who were safely ensconced inside their own circle, their eyes closed as they worked on calling the seeds back. He would need all the strength he possessed to work the spell needed to send back the Tree. As he'd told Dean; they had a little time. Maybe some rest was needed. "Yes, all right, but you're inside as well." He looked up at JT, James and Max, noting their pale and strained faces. "In fact, all of us should get some rest. Everyone, sit down, lie down, whatever you need. Then Ryker can make the circle to shield us."

"I'm staying out here," JT said. "Dad said some of the townspeople might come and try to cause trouble. Someone needs to stand guard."

"Since Ryker's making the spell, we'll be able to step outside without breaking the line," Max stated. Stepping closer to JT, he said in a low tone, "I can tell you're on your last nerve; we all are. We need some rest." He looked over at James, whose face was completely white, dark circles etched under his eyes, and he played the big brother card without a hint of guilt. "And James won't go in without you."

JT glanced covertly at his brother, then nodded. "All right."

All four men sat down in a wide circle. At JT's urging, James rolled his eyes, but lay down, his head on his brother's legs. Max sat with his back to JT's so they could lean on one another. Ryker held out his duffle for Joshua, and the older man lay on his back, his head cushioned by the pack. Quickly Ryker walked a large circle around them all, himself included, then sealed it with his blood.

The sense of relief everyone felt the moment the circle closed was profound. James sighed and closed his eyes, his body relaxing. He was asleep in seconds. Joshua too dropped quickly off to sleep, the stress of the last couple of days finally giving way to weariness. JT, Max and Ryker kept watch.

"I've got the west side," JT murmured. "Max…?"

"North."

"I've got south," Ryker murmured, taking his eyes off his father's circle and focusing on the distant edge of the park.

**.**

Dean, Caleb and Sam climbed from the car and hurried toward the high school. They could hear heightened activity and the venting of emotions even from outside.

"Know what you're going to say?" Sam asked as they jogged to the doors.

"Sorta," Dean replied. He ripped open the double doors of the gymnasium and they stepped inside.

It was barely controlled bedlam inside. Up near front of the gym were several cots holding numerous people. A few were even lying atop blankets on the floor. On the far side were several long conference tables covered with food and bottles of water. On the side near where they stood, several people were milling around several rows of folding chairs. It was obvious someone had tried unsuccessfully to get people to sit down, or maybe just calm down.

Ethan was talking to a man of medium height with black hair. Spotting Dean, Caleb and Sam, he murmured a few words and hurried over. "Hey. I hope you've got something up your sleeve. The natives are restless."

"Badging them didn't work?" Caleb asked.

"Not really. I didn't have time to think of a convincing reason for what happened here. We've been able to calm people a bit, but whatever truce or understanding we come to keeps breaking down."

"The Chaos Spell," Sam said.

"Hole in one," Ethan conceded.

"I'll make protection sigils on each side of the building," Sam said. "It should help a little." At Dean's nod, he turned and jogged out the door.

Ethan watched the retreating Scholar, before saying, "I hope he's got invisible paint, cause if anyone finds those, questions will be asked."

Dean smiled. "He's got something similar."

Ethan looked startled, then shook his head and moved on. "The Sheriff has already put some of the more aggressive types in jail, but this is a small town. He's trying to keep some room free for the most violent cases. We've put other troublemakers in places like the school gardening shed, the principal's office..." Dean gave a spontaneous grin at that one, "...janitor's closet, other places around the school that had good locks. But we're quickly running out of space."

Elijah walked up, his expression harried. "Joel's got two more tied up in the locker room showers. He hoped some cold water might cool them off." Looking to Dean, he said, "I hope you've got something to help out."

"Can the coven make something to calm these people down?"

Frowning, Elijah said, "I don't know. They're protection crafters. I don't know how much other magic they know." Glancing over his shoulder to where Cadmael was standing, he said, "I'll ask."

"We can't drug these people," Ethan said. "They've been traumatized enough without that."

"We're not going to drug them," Dean said. "They're going to take it voluntarily."

"What are you thinking?" Caleb asked.

Just then Elijah walked up with Cadmael at his side.

The man with the black hair held out his hand to Dean and said, "My name is Cadmael. Thank you for freeing my people and the town."

Dean shook it. "Did Elijah tell you what we need?"

The man nodded. "You want a calming draft. Yes, we can make that, but…"

"How quickly?" Dean interrupted.

Cadmael's eyes went to Elijah before he said, "For everyone, even the children?"

That's when Dean looked around and realized that, save for teens and tweens, there were no children in the room. "Where are the children?"

"In the gymnastics room," Elijah said. "The tumbling mats gave them something comfortable to sleep on. And the pastor brought blankets and pillows over from the church."

"I don't think the little ones would need the potion," Caleb interjected. "If they are experiencing emotional fluctuations and tantrums, they aren't big enough to do damage. Anyway, they'll probably be asleep soon, with all the stress."

"Most of the little ones are already asleep," Elijah confirmed.

"Then if we're making the potion for all those over fourteen or fifteen, it would take about fifteen minutes once we have all the needed ingredients gathered. And with the help of my coven, of course," Cadmael continued. He wanted to ask what was going on, but kept his counsel.

"Do you have the ingredients here?"

"Yes, at City Hall."

"Get them," Dean ordered. Turning to Ethan, he said, "Where's the Sheriff?"

"He just took a couple of men to the jail. He should be back in a few minutes."

"Have him call everyone to order when he gets here."

Ethan nodded and hurried to the doors, passing Sam as he went out.

Sam approached his brother and Caleb. "Protection sigils are up, though there's so much turbulence, I don't know how much good they'll be"

"They'll help, and that's enough," Dean said.

Caleb eyed his friend. Finally he asked, "Okay, the Sheriff: want to spill the beans?"

"Terrorism," Dean stated.

Caleb and Sam exchanged confused looks.

Sighing, Dean said, "A terrorist group plans on taking over Washington. What they want is to subdue our country's leaders, get them working for them. To prepare, they've practiced on small towns in the Midwest, places with small communities, places the media ignores as irrelevant. They hypnotize some of the townsfolk, have them subdue others, then they run the town. The feeling of being out of control is a drug the terrorists have administered to keep the public off balance so they don't work out what's happening. Some, however, were able to shake off the drug, and with their courageous help, we've taken out the leader and the entire cell. Then we'll say we're administering a counter-agent to reverse the effects of the drug they were given. It'll make them sleepy, but they need the rest anyway. They'll all be receiving letters of commendation, though these letters will be sealed inside the Department of Defense, as are all classified materials. And we're asking them to remain silent about what happened here, so as not to panic the nation."

Caleb and Sam were staring at Dean, their mouths hanging open in shock.

Feeling defensive, Dean declared, "It was the best I could come up with on short notice!"

Caleb laughed. "It's brilliant!"

"It's completely mental!" Sam exclaimed. "No one in their right minds would believe that."

"Good thing no one _is_ in their right mind," Dean shrugged.

"Terrorism has been rising steadily for decades," Caleb said. "You hear something about a terrorist attack in the news almost weekly. We could sell this!"

"These people may be from a small town, but they're not stupid," Sam stated hotly. "I won't play them for fools."

"I'm not trying to play them for fools," Dean hissed, rounding on his brother. "I'm trying to keep them from hurting one another or stopping us from getting that Tree out of here! What would you suggest I tell them? That a wizard from before the time of Noah's flood came here to plant a Tree from Eden in order to send the country into chaos so he could rule and show up God?"

Sam huffed. "No."

"We've only got another," Dean glanced at his watch, "fourteen minutes. I'm open to something else that might sound remotely plausible, Sam."

"And you think _that_ was plausible?" Sam hissed.

The doors opened behind them and Ethan came back inside followed by a middle-aged man with wiry gray hair and a solid build.

"Sam?" Dean said quietly.

Sam grimaced. He didn't like the idea of using a story about terrorism, because it would frighten people. But he couldn't come up with something else either. Dean had always been better at coming up with plausible stories on the fly, and the truth was, he could sell them. If he were honest, he thought most of Dean's stories were fanciful and didn't understand why people believed them. But then, he knew the truth, didn't he? He wasn't desperately trying to come up with something reasonable to explain a frightening and unexplainable situation. People believed incredible things so they didn't have to believe the incredible itself.

"Sam!" Dean hissed. The Sheriff was almost to them.

"No, I can't think of anything else," Sam admitted hastily.

Dean's gaze went to his brother, his expressive eyes showing that he understood Sam's reticence for the story. Nodding once, he turned and held out his hand to the Sheriff. "John Rutsey. Department of Homeland Security: Special Taskforce."

"Andy Howard, Sheriff of Lebanon." Hard eyes studied Dean's appearance, from the worn jeans to the black tee-shirt and plaid flannel. "Got some identification?"

"In my car," Dean said. "I can go get it, or I can try and explain what happened so people can calm down, get the help they need."

"Help they need?" Sheriff Howard echoed skeptically.

Giving the sheriff a hard nod, Dean said, "Let's get a little privacy and I'll explain what you and your town have achieved here." Holding out a hand, he led the man to a distant corner.

Caleb, Sam and Ethan watched them talk, the sheriff listening intently to whatever Dean was saying.

Without looking away from the pair, Ethan asked, "John Rutsey?"

Sam gave a long-suffering sigh. "Rush."

"Rutsey was the original drummer for the group," Caleb explained. "He was replaced by Neil Peart in nineteen-seventy-four due to health issues." It had been a very long time since Dean had used an alias from a band. Damn, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed that.

"Plus he hated touring," Sam added. "Rush isn't as well-known as some classic rock bands, but Dean pretty much knows them all."

Ethan laughed.

Walking up, Elijah asked, "What's so funny?"

"Dean and rock bands," Ethan relayed, shaking his head. "What about the potion?"

"Cadmael is working on it right now with ten other coven members. When they're finished, they'll load the mix into the back of a truck and bring it over to the gym." Looking around, Elijah said, "But it looks like things have gotten a little calmer."

"Sam put protection sigils on each side of the building," Caleb said.

Giving himself a mental head slap, Elijah grumbled, "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Too many aggressive people and trying to keep them under control," Sam replied.

"I'm wondering why a coven whose focus is on protecting people didn't think of it?" Caleb grumbled.

"Probably because they're not used to dealing with situations like this." Sam could understand that. Not many people, even covens, were used to dealing with the supernatural like they were.

"My question is, how do we get the townspeople to take the potion without alarming them?" Ethan said. "If I were them and had been through what they had, I'd be pretty damned suspicious of everyone and everything."

"If Dean is presenting it like an antidote, we'll treat it like that," Sam suggested. "Get those little Dixie cups, pour some in and hand it out. They'll drink it."

Caleb glanced at his watch. "Eleven minutes."

"What about eleven minutes?" Ethan asked.

"Apparently Joshua needs us there for the spell to get rid of the Tree," Sam said. "He gave us twenty minutes before he needs us back."

Ethan grimaced. "That's cutting this very close."

"Ain't that the truth," Caleb mumbled.

A second later Dean and the Sheriff came back towards them, a new, determined spring in the Sheriff's step.

"I'm heading up to the front, get everyone in their seats," Sheriff Howard said. "Can you get the antidote poured and over to the table? We'll have people file by after you speak and let them know what the hell went on." Holding out his hand, he gave Dean's a hearty shake. "Thank you, thank you for saving this town."

Dean gave the man a firm nod, saying, "Thank you for being the tough, Midwestern sonsabitches we know and love. I'm from Kansas too, so I know the backbone here. It's your people's fighting spirit that helped take down these bastards."

Sheriff Howard nodded, then walked off, calling out for everyone to come sit down, that they had news on what the hell had happened.

Caleb, Sam, Ethan and Elijah were staring at Dean.

"What?" Dean demanded, his fair skin going a smidge pink.

"How in the hell did you manage that?" Ethan asked. "He's been suspicious of us since we set everyone free, and I've got a legit badge from Houston PD! You didn't even show him identification."

"I've been lying longer than you," Dean smirked. "I want you and Elijah to bring in the potion, not the coven. Andy's not going to trust them, and I think I've stretched this as far as it can go."

Ethan nodded. "I'll call Cadmael, fill him in," and he hurried out the double doors.

Dean glanced down at his watch. "We're cutting this close." Looking around, he saw that people were slowly moving to the chairs. In fact, several seats were filled already.

"You're going to speak?" Sam asked.

"I've got to."

"We need out of here in eight minutes, nine at the outside if we're to get back within Josh's twenty-minute window," Caleb said.

Nodding, Dean walked up to where Sheriff Howard was standing, waiting for people to get seated. Smiling, he reached and started shaking hands with the townspeople near the front, introducing himself and telling them he appreciated their service. People were looking confused, but listening.

"I'll be damned," Caleb murmured.

"He's connecting with the crowd, making himself one of them." Elijah shook his head. "I need to take lessons."

Sam merely grinned. Yup, that was his brother; self-assured, charming, an outright deceiver with a heart of gold, and utterly believable. Maybe he should take lessons too.

Finally, when most of the seats were filled, Sheriff Howard stood up front and called for attention. "Thank you! Thank you everyone for sitting down. We don't have the microphone system up, so I'm going to ask for quiet so you can all hear. We'll take questions after this is over. Right now, I want to introduce Special Agent Rutsey from Homeland Security. He's going to tell you about what happened in this town, and about the debt they owe the people right here in Lebanon." Turning, he nodded to Dean.

Stepping forward, Dean nodded to the people, met several of their intense gazes, and started to speak.

**.**

Onida focused on the mineral found in the seeds, ignoring what Adam was doing, ignoring the sounds and movements around her. Adam had said not to worry about the distance, but just to focus on the seeds. It was a difficult task, because the thought that the seeds were thousands of miles away was a daunting prospect. But she tried to focus on his instructions. She wasn't sure how long she'd been concentrating on her task when she felt a lid pop on one of the boxes. Inhaling sharply in surprise, she narrowed her focus on bringing the phytic acid mineral toward her and the Tree.

Adam also felt the box pop open. Lifting his right hand, he waved his fingers in the air, coaxing the seeds from the box. In his mind's eye he could see the green, vibrant light Onida was using to call the seeds to her, and he was extending its reach with his potion. Other box lids popped open, and in his mind's eyes he saw streams of green light weaving throughout the country. He had no idea how long he and Onida had been working when he began to notice a faint buzzing sound. At first he dismissed it as noise from the Tree. But he then heard it grow louder.

In the other circle, Max was the first to hear the odd noise in the air. It sounded like cicadas in the spring. Lifting his head, he searched the night sky until he spotted a dark cloud coming nearer. "Guys…" he whispered, pointing.

JT and Ryker's heads turned toward the north. Trying not to shift too much and wake James, JT squinted, frowning. "What?"

Ryker was focused on the sky, until finally he pointed, murmuring, "There."

"What is that?" JT asked.

"I'd say that those are the seeds," Joshua murmured quietly, pushing himself into a sitting position. He'd never seen anything so odd in his life, and that was saying something. Of course, no regular person would think anything of it. The dark cloud flying across the moonlit sky looked like a swarm of bugs. There was even a strange sort of buzzing as they drew closer. Of course, they'd all heard the buzzing from the Tree, so he supposed the seed's resonation would be the same.

Near the Tree, Onida heard the sound and almost opened her eyes to look around.

"Stay focused," Adam murmured, his hands now brushing the bottom of an almost empty bowl of potion.

Joshua watched the skies, a smile of delight on his face. To see such a thing, to achieve such an amazing display of magic was phenomenal. To have reached across the entire country and called these seeds to them was truly a work of magical art at its best. Working together, Adam and Onida had done something astounding, and he knew Nadine must never hear about this. If she did, she would stop at nothing to bring Adam, and possibly Onida, back to West Virginia.

Max's head turned this way and that as he watched swarms coming in from all directions. Suddenly he asked, "Did you set up something to capture the seeds?"

Joshua shook his head, his face still tilted towards the sky. "They'll go back to the Tree. It's what they want to do."

The first cloud of seeds from the north hit the Tree, covering the truck and branches like locust in a field. Slowly, the appearance of blackness lightened as the Tree appeared to absorb the seeds back into itself.

"That's amazing," James murmured, his eyes glued to the Tree.

JT looked down and smiled when he saw that James was awake and watching the unbelievable sight, head still resting on his big brother's legs.

Ryker's gaze was going from his father and Onida to the Tree, and back again. "Definitely," he whispered.

A second, then a third cloud of seeds swirled around the Tree and clung to the trunk, branches and limbs. When the fourth cloud blanketed the Tree, Adam and Onida opened their eyes and looked around. Adam gave Onida a wide smile, and she grinned in return.

"You'll never see anything like that again," Adam remarked, his eyes twinkling.

"I hope not," Onida chuckled, her eyes on the Tree. The seeds were twisting around the base and moving upward as others were absorbed, making room for them. When the last of the seeds had been absorbed, Adam scratched across the line around them. A fresh swath of fresh air curled in along with the chaos and cacophony of the Tree. "Ooh," she murmured as her head ached in pain. Closing her eyes, she quickly covered her ears.

"Pull your energy back inside," Adam stated.

Giving a slight nod, Onida tried to pull in her energy and close herself off from the Tree. But the Chaos Spell was making that difficult. If she hadn't been wearing one of Joshua's potion protection spell bags, she thought she would have hauled off and clobbered someone. Finally she just sighed and opened her eyes. If Caleb could deal with it, so could she.

"Here."

Onida looked up to see Joshua standing beside her, holding out a power bar. Shaking her head ruefully, she realized that Caleb had made sure _everyone_ was up on the care and feeding of Onida. Smiling, she murmured, "Thanks."

"Come," Adam said, holding out a hand to pull Onida to her feet.

Standing, Onida ripped the wrapper off her power bar and took a bite. She didn't want to, as she felt distinctly sick to her stomach. But she knew she needed the energy, so she forced herself to swallow and take another bite.

Adam took a step toward Joshua, then suddenly put a hand to his stomach and swallowed hard.

"Adam?" Joshua inquired worriedly.

"I'm … fine," Adam stated, his voice a little thin.

"I think you need one of these too," Joshua said, leaning down and pulling another power bar from his duffel. Standing again, he looked off toward the edge of the park where Dean had parked his car.

"Something?" Adam murmured as he pulled the wrapper away from his bar and took a reluctant bite.

"We can't send the Tree back without Dean, Sam and Caleb."

"They'll be here."

"Yes." Joshua watched the tree line for another second, then swung around to where Ryker was standing near their gear. Striding over, he said, "Let's get ready."

**.**

Dean watched the faces in the crowd. Most were listening intently, their reacts as varied as the people; most appeared to be giving him the benefit of the doubt, though some expressions were incredulous. He needed them all to believe what he was saying, he needed this town onboard. Time to pull out the big guns.

Moving away from the straight-in-the-eye federal agent act, he switched to the sympathetic, I-know-this-is-tough approach. He didn't want to deceive these people, but he knew without one iota of doubt that they needed some sort of peace in order to deal with what happened and get on with their lives.

Widening his eyes slightly, he let his head drop slightly to his chest and sighed. After a moment, he looked up again. "I know this is tough. I know this experience has been one for the record books. Fifty years ago, we didn't have to think about our towns and homes being violated by terrorists. Hell, I'm from Lawrence Kansas just three and a half hours from here. I'm as small town as they come." Slowly he gave them a slight smile, his gaze understanding. "You want the complete truth?" There was a murmur of assent from the crowd, though many merely continued to watch and listen. "The truth is Lebanon Kansas was violated; you were violated by a group of terrorists. This is the twenty-first century; it's twenty-forty-one. No one is exempt from terrorism. You weren't the first small town to encounter this group, but you are definitely the last. But do you understand what you have achieved here?" Dean watched as the faces became more animated; some people even leaned forward in their chairs slightly. "You fought them, you survived. Those of you who had family members held hostage, under mind control? _You_ persevered! And those of you held hostage? Yeah, you were scared, yes; you were worried about your family. But you held on! You hung in there! You _prayed_!"

Now there was a smattering of applause and heightened murmuring amongst the crowd.

Dean shook his head. "You gave us the time to find this group; you gave us the time to take them down. You may feel like your fear disqualifies you from being a hero, but let me tell you…" he made eye contact with several people, "It. Does. Not."

Now there was a bit more applause from the crowd.

"From the Offices of Homeland Security, I thank you for your courage, ragged and battered though you may feel it was. Each and every member of this town will be issued a classified commendation, which will be filed under the code name Chaos Agenda in the National Homeland Security Classified File Offices. I must ask you not to speak of this to anyone outside of Lebanon. This is a classified operation, and needs to be kept quiet."

A man stood up, frowning. "But people need to know what's out there. Shouldn't this be publicized?"

A second man stood up. "Shouldn't other towns be warned?"

"People should be warned to watch out," a woman called out.

Dean held up his hands for quiet. It was a sign of how much he'd connected with these people, of how much confidence he had gained from the town members that they quieted almost immediately.

Caleb grinned like a proud papa, shaking his head slightly.

Sam was beaming. Dean, his brother who used to think he wasn't good at much except throwing a punch, convincing a room of people they'd been taken over by terrorists. He wished he'd been able to see his brother with open eyes as a kid, but then … he'd been a kid. Dean had been, for all intents and purposes, his parent, and children never saw their parents for who they truly were. But Dean had had this ability from youth; the ability to charm, to convince others to trust him implicitly. This gift had been evident all through their school years. Maybe he hadn't seen it then, but he could now.

"Damn," Ethan murmured. "I should have him talk to my suspects. They'd all confess just to please him."

Sam's smile widened.

"I hear you," Dean said. "But let me ask you this; what would you have done if someone had said terrorists were coming to Lebanon, and that they were going to use a combination of mind control, drugs and hostage taking to take over?"

There was a small smattering of laughter while some people looked peevish and others understanding.

"People," Dean said, eyeing as many as he could, "are different than society, or towns. You went through this, you understand what can happen out there. And you might tell someone one-on-one and they might believe you. But society as a whole won't. Let's face it, I don't even want to believe a group of terrorists could possibly come into my home town and take over, and I work for Homeland Security. But put this out to the world at large? What would happen?"

There was silence for a moment before someone called out, "They would think we were crazy."

"They would think we were making it up!" someone else shouted.

"They wouldn't believe us," another yelled.

Dean nodded. "Silence is the hardest part of my job, and it has now become the hardest part of your lives. And for that, I am truly sorry. But I do not want Lebanon and all you have endured to become the butt of media jokes or downplayed by those in cushy jobs who have little idea of what goes on in the world. So I am asking for your silence, not only for the sake of all we do in Homeland Security, but for your protection."

There was a knock at the double doors, and Ethan hurried to open it. Elijah and Joel came inside carrying a large ten galloon cooler.

"My team is going to give out an antidote to the serum that was used on everyone in the town. As I said, the serum used was mostly inert, but it shortened tempers and lowered your inhibitions. So, if your best friend, your child, your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend did something to you during the last couple of months," Dean gave each of the people there a sympathetic look, "forgive them. In this instant, they literally couldn't help it." He let his smile widen. "Of course, you can't dine out on that card forever, so your actions are your own from here on out." There was laughter in the room, and the tension lessened considerably. Dean looked over at Sam and nodded. "Agent Lee?"

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he walked forward.

Turning back to the crowd, Dean said, "Agent Lee is going to tell you about the antidote."

Sam glared at Dean before turning to the crowd and explaining a little about the "antidote" they would be taking.

As he spoke, two men and a woman started fighting toward the back of the crowd. Screams erupted and chairs overturned as the three were fighting. Caleb, Daniel, Sherriff Howard and a deputy hurried to subdue the squabbling trio.

When he could be heard, Dean stepped forward, saying, "And don't hold anything against them either." There was more relieved laughter as he nodded to Sam to continue.

"So, all you'll feel is a little sleepy," Sam said. "This is mainly due to the tension in your bodies from the last month or so. That tension is a symptom of the drug's lowering your inhibitions."

"Wouldn't a person feel more loose if that was happening?"

Sam searched for the speaking, then smiled. "Town doctor?"

The man nodded and stood. "Doctor Abraham."

"Good to meet you. I would appreciate your help in measuring the doses, if you feel confident in doing so. And yes, normally a lowering of inhibitions would signal relaxed muscles. However, in this case the inhibitions are in conflict with what you want. It's not like being drunk, which affects the entire body. This drug affects the prefrontal cortex of the brain and signals you to do what you don't want to. You don't want to hit your friend; you don't want to hurt your family. Thus the tension is the body fighting against the drug."

Doctor Abraham nodded slowly.

"It's quite insidious, and we've only just been able to find something to counter it. We administered it to the residents of a small town in Missouri as well. They're all fine."

"What town?" someone asked, fearfully.

Sam looked sympathetic. "You have family in Missouri?"

A woman and man nodded.

"Where?"

"Asbury," they said.

"They're safe," Dean stated, stepping forward. "They're safe. That was not the town that was compromised."

"Which town was compromised?" another person asked, and a few others echoed the question.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

There was a disgruntled murmuring.

"I won't tell you for their safety, just as what happened here will be kept secret for your safety," Dean stated. "Do you want Lebanon overrun with media making fun of you and your families? Do you want your lives upended more than they are now? I will protect you and Lebanon with my life," he said fervently, "just as I will protect the other towns this terrorist group has attacked." Giving the crowd a decisive nod, he stepped back, letting Sam have the stage again. _Time_, Caleb murmured in Dean's head. _We're going to be late getting back._

"So, any questions?" Sam asked, scanning the crowd. When no one answered, he said, "Doctor? If you can come forward, I'll explain more about the compound we'll be administering. Everyone else, please line up at the tables."

Dean stepped up behind Sam and murmured, "We're down two minutes."

Sam nodded as Doctor Abraham approached.

Dean left Sam to do his brainiac speak to convince the doctor what they were giving to his people was safe. Approaching Caleb, he asked, "You call Josh?"

Caleb nodded. "He said to get there as soon as we can."

Dean glanced at his watch with a sigh. "I should have known we couldn't get out of here in twenty minutes. Damn it."

Caleb eyed his friend, but couldn't help the grin spreading across his face.

"What?" Dean spat, irritated and feeling guilty about telling such a whopper to some very nice people.

"You could convince a Washington bureaucrat he'd been visited by vampires and to keep it a secret," Caleb chuckled.

Dean felt his face heat up. "That's ridiculous," he muttered, turning away so his friend couldn't see his embarrassment.

Caleb merely smiled and changed the subject. What he wanted to do was tease his friend some more, but they had other concerns. "Looks like Sam was successful."

Dean looked at the front of the gym to where Sam and the doctor had been conversing. Sam called over Elijah and introduced the pair. Now he was coming their way, followed by the Sheriff. Along with Elijah, the doctor was headed to the table where Joel and Daniel were ladling potion into small cups.

As soon as the Sheriff got to Dean, he held out his hand. Shaking Dean's firmly, he said, "Thank you and your team for getting here, for finding those terrorists and setting the town free."

"Just doin' our job," Dean stated. "Sheriff, we've still got some clean up to do. Three of us will be leaving to sweep the countryside, make sure no one slips through our hands. Can I leave things here to you and your people?"

Sheriff Howard nodded. "We can handle it. If it's all right with you, the four who helped liberate the people at the factory can stay, finish assisting Doctor Abraham give out the potion, calm nerves."

Dean nodded. "Happy to help. I'll check in before we head back to Washington."

Sheriff Howard shook Dean's hand one more time, saying, "Thanks again." Then he turned to walk through the groups of people milling about, shaking hands, patting backs, saying a comforting word here and there.

"That's a good man," Dean said softly. "He took a lot on faith today."

Sam frowned. "You don't think he believes you."

"He's a cop," Dean said. "It's his job to be skeptical." Staring at the man doing his best to calm the nerves and sooth the people under his protection, he understood exactly what the sheriff has chosen to do. "Sometimes you choose to believe the unbelievable because it's the best thing for everyone."

Sam stared at his brother for a moment, then looked over at the sheriff. The man had taken the steps needed to protect his town. He was a hero.

"I'm going to check in with Ethan, let him know we're heading out," Caleb said. "Let's get back to the park."

**.**

Joshua and Ryker were nearly finished laying the main portion of the spell circle around the Tree. Twice they'd had to stop already to rest, as the Tree's influence combined with the Chaos Spell was causing havoc with their circulatory systems. As Joshua sat down for the third time, he worried he wouldn't have the strength to complete the spell.

"Can I do anything?" Adam asked as he finished the protection circle around Joshua, giving him the sanctuary he needed to rest.

"Perhaps," Joshua murmured. He'd expended an enormous amount of magical energy over the last few days, and there was a very complicated spell that remained to be worked. Did he need to finish the spell line himself?

Max sat inside the circle with his father, watching over him; plying him with water and food.

Joshua thought through his spell and the plan for perhaps the hundredth time. He and Ryker would need to be inside the outer circle and within their own circles to complete the spell. If they weren't protected, he believed the vortex of the spell would possibly endanger their lives. Adam wasn't a member of the Brotherhood, nor was he an Advisor or Advisor-to-be, but the outer spell circle was a variation of a traditional boundary spell. The ingredients, while mainly traditional, didn't need to be activated until the spell was closed. Adam could help Ryker finish the circle, then he could close the spell himself after Dean, Caleb and Sam returned. Nodding, Joshua said, "Yes, please," and he quickly explained the spell that needed to be laid.

His voice was thin, and Max was worried. His eyes met his godfather's, concern evident in both pairs.

"Finish the protection circle," Joshua continued. "Include the half-dome bubbles Piruz included in his own circle."

Adam wanted to ask why the bubbles, but decided to leave that for a later conversation when both he and Joshua were sitting before the fire in either of their homes, sipping a fine, dry red wine.

"Leave openings in the East and South bubbles. Ryker and I will seal those later. Inside the circle, make two circles, four feet in diameter. Ryker knows what goes inside each of those circles." Pausing, Joshua took a deep drink of water from the bottle he was holding. "Ryker knows where to place the spell bags."

Adam nodded. "Don't worry. You've got a big task ahead of you. Rest. You've got time."

Joshua nodded at his oldest friend and closed his eyes, leaning against Max.

"Dad?" Max said softly, his voice conveying his worry.

"I'm fine," Joshua assured his son. "This is just a lot of magic in a very short period of time." He opened his eyes and looked over to where Onida was lying asleep inside a protection circle Adam had drawn for her ten minutes before. "You understand what magic requires."

"Yeah," Max sighed.

"It will be all right…" Joshua began.

"Dad," Max interrupted. "Rest. I know it will all be fine."

Joshua smiled and laid his head on the duffel beside his son. He had dozed off in the next second.

Max looked over at JT and James, who were both hovering nearby.

JT stood. "We're going to patrol the park."

"Don't go too far," Max murmured.

"Will do." JT rose and nodded to James. Rising, they walked about twenty yards away, guns out and ready to use. Three men used in Piruz's original spell had woken from the sleeping draft that had been administered earlier. Though their hands were bound, they'd still risen and attempted to attack JT, James and Max out of fear and confusion. James had used another sleeping potion to put them out, and JT had secured them to a picnic table. Rather than take a chance, he and Max had zip-tied everyone's feet to prevent another incident. So far, no one else had woken, and they both hoped it would remain that way.

It was almost twenty minutes later when Dean, Sam and Caleb came jogging back into the park. They'd been gone a total of thirty-five minutes.

Caleb squatted down beside the protection circle, concern etched on his face. "Is he all right?" he asked Max.

"You're late," Joshua stated, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Are you all right?" Caleb repeated.

"Tired, but fine." With Max's help, he climbed to his feet, and they walked out of Adam's protection circle. Turning back, Joshua smudged his toe across the line and murmured a couple words, effectively breaking the small circle.

Once Caleb assured himself Joshua was fine, he turned and went over to where Onida was lying asleep.

Dean gave Joshua the once over, noting that though his face was pale, his eyes were sharp and clear. Turning, he stepped up beside Sam who was watching Adam and Ryker walk around the Tree. It was obvious they were making a line, whatever line Joshua would be using to send the Tree back to Eden. He wanted to ask whether Adam could draw a Brotherhood Circle, but figured Joshua wouldn't have let him do it if it would be a problem.

Sam, however, didn't mind asking. "Is it all right if Adam makes the circle instead of you?"

Joshua looked to Dean, who rolled his eyes in return as though he wasn't thinking the very same thing. Smiling, Joshua said, "All Adam is making is a standard boundary circle. I put together the ingredients, and I made the spell bags."

Sam's eyes shot to Joshua and he grimaced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Joshua chuckled, raising a hand to wave off Sam's unintentional gaffe. He understood who Sam was after all these years, and questions were the Scholar's stock-in-trade. "It's all right. You weren't questioning my ability, you were just curious about whether a non-Advisor would change the way the spell unfolded. And no, it won't. I'll still be doing the spell with Ryker's help."

Sam looked slightly abashed, but gave their Advisor an apologetic smile. They had worked together many times, and Joshua knew him inside and out.

Ryker and Adam walked over. "All right," Ryker said, "The circle is drawn, with openings in the eastern and southern domes. Our circles are drawn and waiting for us to take up our positions, and the spell bags have been placed just inside the four cardinal domes to the circle."

"Thank you, Ryker," Joshua said. "Let's get this done, shall we?"

Ryker smiled and nodded.

Adam walked over to where Onida was sleeping. Since he'd made the circle, he reached inside, and the circle collapsed, waking the sleeping woman immediately. He and Joshua had already discussed that he along with Onida would get inside a strong protection circle at least thirty yards from the boundary spell circle.

Blinking upward, Onida frowned. "Adam?"

"It's time to move a bit further away," Adam said. Then he smiled. "And I think this is a show you won't want to miss."

Climbing to her feet, Onida looked around and spotted Caleb coming toward her. Smiling, she walked forward into his outstretched arms.

"This will be over soon," Caleb murmured into her hair.

"Good. I need some one-on-one time with my man," Onida whispered into his ear. Stepping back, she turned and walked with Adam away from the circle and the Tree.

"All right," Joshua said, calling everyone's attention back to the job at hand. "The Tree is surrounded by a boundary spell circle with cardinal domes."

"Like the domes Piruz was using to keep the Tree in check?" Sam asked

"Yes. Only we'll be using the cardinal domes to send the Tree back. I'll be placing each team inside a dome. Ryker and I will be inside the two circles nearest the center, working to relocate the Tree in tandem."

"Is that safe?" Caleb interrupted.

"We'll work the spell from be inside our own protection circles, so we should be quite safe. Now, I'm not going to explain the spell I wrote, because it's simply too complicated. But you won't need to do anything but just be the Triad anchors in the domes." Looking around at the seven men; three of whom he'd fought beside for years, four his honorary nephews, godson and son, he asked, "Any questions?"

"I wouldn't know where to start," Sam said with a smile.

Returning the smile, Joshua continued, "Then let's get going. JT, James, Max; you go with Ryker. Dean, Caleb, Sam? Follow me."

Joshua led then down to the south side of the spell circle. A large dome about five feet by six feet arced out from the edges of the circle. "There's plenty of room to walk around so you won't feel crowded."

Dean stepped inside the curved boundaries of the dome and looked at the Tree. He was more on edge now than he'd ever been, even inside the circle. The buzzing was a constant annoyance, thought he would be able to do his part in Joshua's spell. Turning to Joshua, he asked, "Will we be all right when you close the circle and we're in here with the Tree?"

Joshua didn't answer immediately. It had been a concern of his since he'd written the spell. But if he and Ryker closed the lines from inside the circle, then went directly to starting the spell, he hoped there would be no additional discomfort. Meeting Dean's eye, he said, "Truthfully, I don't know. You're wearing a double punch of protection potions, and the discomfort you've all felt hasn't been debilitating yet. My hope is that starting the spell quickly will forestall any increased effect from the Tree."

Chewing at his lip slightly, Dean said, "Yeah, all right."

"You should also know that the boundary spell lines cannot be broken," Joshua said.

Startled, Sam said, "What? You mean we're stuck in here?"

"In a manner of speaking. To make a circle strong enough to merge the Tree with Eden and to send it back, I needed to make a spell line that couldn't be broken by anyone."

Sam frowned. "You can do that?"

Joshua nodded.

"Then how do we get out when the Tree's gone?" Dean asked.

"Boundary lines fade," Joshua stated. "While strong as titanium, they're of short duration. So while we won't be able to get out, and no one can get in, it will fade away within a short period of time."

"How long?"

"An hour, probably two, but no more than that."

Dean nodded slowly.

"Ryker brought water and power bars into the circle if they're needed."

"I could use the sleep," Caleb stated.

Joshua smiled. Turning to the right, he walked around the inner circumference of the circle to the western dome. Lifting a large glass jar, he placed it on the inside of the dome, to the backside of a large spell bag before he returned to where Caleb, Sam and Dean were standing. Looking over his shoulder, he noted that Ryker was heading back to the eastern side, having just placed a glass jar inside the northern dome. "In two!" he called.

Ryker lifted a hand.

"Do we need to do anything with that?" Sam asked, pointing to a very large spell pouch that sat just to the inner edge of the main circle. He had noticed one at each of the domes, though their dome had no jar.

"No, you don't need to worry about that." Moving inside the dome, Joshua bent down and closed the open outer edge of the dome, sealing it with his blood.

Sam instantly felt the increase of buzzing and his stomach turned. Quickly he checked out Dean, Caleb and Joshua. Each looked the worse for wear.

Joshua met Dean's eyes before nodding and hurrying out into the main circle.

Ryker was already standing near what looked like a four foot wide circle just in front of JT, James and Max. A row of jars and spell bags were lined up. When Joshua got to his circle on the western side of the Tree, both men stepped inside the smaller circles and closed the lines.

Dean looked over to his right, where JT, James and Max were standing inside the eastern circle.

"Do you think it will make a difference if the western and northern circles are empty?" Sam asked.

"The jars are taking the place of people," Caleb retorted. "Joshua thought of that."

Sam merely nodded, a hand to his stomach.

Sighing, Caleb said, "Sorry."

Giving the Knight a slight smile, Sam just watched Joshua and Ryker.

Dean felt as though he would throw up if he opened his mouth, so he just kept it clapped tightly shut and watched the two Advisors working their spell. His concentration was so intense, that he almost missed the rumbling under their feet.

Light had begun to spiral up from the spell circles around Joshua and Ryker. Neither man had his eyes opened as the luminescence rose in ribbons of brightness. The ground rumbled as though something was fighting to get out.

Caleb reached out and grabbed Sam and Dean's arms to steady everyone as the ground shifted.

Sam stared down, and it actually took him a moment to realize that there was rumbling and roaring from below their feet. Suddenly the ground cracked, and shafts of light knifed upward from the earth. Skittering to the side, he exclaimed, "Dean!"

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and started to pull him back to the rear of the arc when another shaft of brilliant, intense light shot upward. All three men crowded to the front of the dome, sidestepping the potion bag as they attempted to stay within the half-sphere.

"Can we leave here?" Caleb shouted as they crowded the lip of the dome.

"I don't know!" Dean called back.

"I think we're supposed to stay!" Sam cried loudly.

Caleb grimaced as he tried to stay inside the dome, even though they were almost being forced into the main circle. "That might not be an option…"

Suddenly, light as brilliant and intense as a solar flare shot upward from the depths of the earth, blinding everyone and obliterating everything from sight. When the intensity diminished a fraction, Dean, Caleb and Sam were lying unconscious on the ground.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Dean using Agent Lee for Sam. Staying with Rush - Geddy Lee was one of the founding members: Keyboards/Bass/Vocals._

_Thank you Dede and everyone for taking a moment to comment on how the story is keeping you entertained. I love it! This journey is nearing the end, so hang on to your hats!_


	30. Chapter 30

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 30

.

_Behold, a storm wind was coming from the north, a great cloud with_

_fire flashing forth continually and a bright light around it,_

_and in its midst something like glowing metal in the midst of the fire._

_Within it there were figures resembling four living beings._

_In the midst of the living beings there was something that looked like burning coals of fire,_

_like torches darting back and forth among the living beings._

_The fire was bright, and lightening was flashing from the fire._

_From Ezekiel 1_

Sam stirred and thought he groaned, but he couldn't be sure since his ears were ringing. He didn't understand where he was or why. One thing he did know: he was lying down. There was light everywhere, so brilliant and white he couldn't see a thing. That's when he realized his eyes weren't even open. Flailing a bit, his hand touched a multitude of spiky things that were warm and slender: grass, and he remembered he was in the park. Something moved near his legs, and he suddenly remembered Dean and Caleb. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and opened his eyes.

He was blind. That was the first thought that ran through his mind.

"Sam," croaked a voice near his side.

"Here," Sam choked. Clearing his throat, he repeated, "Here. Where … are you?"

A hand fumbled nearby, then touched his back and moved up to his shoulder.

"Caleb?" Sam managed to ask.

"Out," Dean groaned.

Sam could tell his brother was shifting around. But when Dean suddenly froze, Sam felt a jolt of fear and yelped, "Dean?"

Dean knew he should respond; it was an imperative driven into him since he was a child. When Sam called, he answered. But he couldn't have even if he'd wanted to. Directly in front of his face was a massive pair of feet. At least, they looked like feet on top; with toes, the nails, bones and ankles of a normal human foot. But the soles looked more like the hooves of an animal, like a horse or a bull. They were the color of brass and gleaming like highly polished metal. Slowly his eyes traveled upward, and he thought a startled yell might have been torn from his throat. And truthfully, at that moment, he wouldn't have cared in the slightest. The Being had to be somewhere around eighteen feet tall. Some things were worthy of screams, and he was looking at one.

The sound of Dean's yell stirred Caleb's battered psyche. Groaning, he flipped onto his side and opened his eyes. He couldn't see a damn thing. There was blinding light everywhere. Frowning, he looked to the side and saw an outline he recognized as Dean staring upward. His mouth was open and his eyes wider than a two-year-olds at Christmas. "Dean?" His voice cracked. Swallowing, he tried again. "Dean?" Reaching out, he shook his friend's shoulder. It was then he caught sight of the feet. His elbow was almost touching them. "Damn!" Scrambling back, he stared at the impossible sight. Fear reached inside and gripped him tight; a fear so deep he didn't think he'd ever felt such a thing, not even when he was thirteen and thought he'd killed his parents, his foster parents, and his grandmother. Then, the terror that he might inadvertently kill someone he loved had taken years to overcome. Only Mac's unyielding love and Dean's unquestioning acceptance had made him realize he was worthy of a new family. Mac, Dean, John, Sam and Pastor Jim had been the safe foundation upon which he'd built his life. _This_ emotion eclipsed those youthful fears spectacularly as his eyes moved slowly up the feet to the legs. That's when he saw the tips of the wings. "Oh…"

Sam's eyes traveled upward from the tips of the gleaming wings that covered the creature's knees and body, wings whiter, more gleaming and brilliant than sunlight on new fallen snow. Trepidation and fear as massive as the universe stormed through his body, and he wanted to hide someplace dark and safe. But somehow he just couldn't stop looking. He thought he'd known what it was … fear. But it was only now that he realized he had no idea.

Across the creature's legs and knees was a massive set of wings, with a second set covering his torso and chest. A third set fanned out from his back, lower to the ground, while a fourth set was outstretched and curving slightly inward. But it was the sight of the being's face that nearly stopped Sam's heart. The visage of the creature shifted from that of a lion, to an ox, then a man, followed by an eagle. Each image morphed across the face, looking immensely normal and outrageously otherworldly. And Sam knew this was an Angel of the Lord.

Dean finally tore his eyes away from the Angel and turned to see both Sam and Caleb staring upward. Then he whipped around, trying to see what had happened to JT, James and Max. "Crap!" he exclaimed, giving an involuntary scoot backward. Another Angel was inside the dome on the eastern side, his sons and godson at the creature's feet. One set of massive wings was outstretched, touching the wingtips of the Angel in their dome. Quickly he looked due north to the third Angel within that dome, and next to the fourth in the dome on the western side of the Tree. Their touching wings were surrounding the boundary circle created by Joshua and Ryker and orbs of flame appeared to dart between the Beings. At the base of the Tree he could barely see Joshua and Ryker kneeling in their protection circles.

Looking back at the eastern circle, he yelled, "JT! James! Max!" It was then he realized that storm winds were whipping around with fire flashing through the clouds like primordial lightening, and his words were thrown back at him in the torrent.

_THEY ARE WELL_

Dean craned his neck so he could look back up at the creature above him. There'd been no audible voice, not even inside his head. Caleb was in his head all the time, and he knew what that felt like. No, these words were simply known by him. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Fear was an emotion that was second nature to a hunter. They recognized it, acknowledged its presence, and fought on regardless. The fear he now felt was even greater than when he'd met Death. But while this sensation was profound and very real, there was something else that held sway within the emotion: a calm confidence. He knew without the remotest doubt that these Beings would not hurt them. While the knowledge didn't lessen the terror, he found that it helped his feeling of being overwhelmed.

"Are the boys all right?"

Dean turned to see Caleb watching him. "Yeah."

"What's happening?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean murmured, turning back around to where Joshua and Ryker were kneeling. His voice sounded less that it usually was; thinner, as though he were battling his emotions. "I thought the Tree would just vanish."

"Me too," Sam whispered.

"What…" Caleb shook his head as his voice gave out slightly. "Should we do something?"

"Joshua said no," Sam murmured. "Just to stay inside the domes."

"What could we do?" Dean murmured softly. "We're nothing."

"We're not nothing," Caleb said fiercely.

"We're children of God." Sam looked his brother and friend in the eye, his own wet.

Caleb smiled and nodded.

Dean merely watched his brother. This was a Sam he hadn't seen in years, since before he went to hell. This was the Sam who believed in angels and knew with his whole heart that God was sovereign. During the years of the Apocalypse, Sam's view of heaven's inhabitants had been tarnished. But here and now all the wonder of heaven was displayed, the power of God Almighty, and Sam was renewed. He would cherish this moment for a very long time. Needing a little sense of normalcy, he looked back up and said, "I feel weird sitting at the feet of an Angel."

"I believe this is a Cherubim," Sam said, glancing upward a second, then looking back at his brother and Caleb. "When God banned Adam, Eve and their family from the Garden, he sent a Cherubim with a flaming sword to guard the entrance so they couldn't go back inside." He swallowed, as his throat felt suddenly dry. "Their primary purpose is to worship God. They fly around his Throne, worshiping Him and giving Him glory."

Dean spared another glance upward, then had to close his eyes. He felt as though his retinas were burning out.

Caleb was watching Joshua and Ryker, and wondered how long this would go on before the Tree would be restored to Eden. After another minute or two, Joshua abruptly dropped from his knees to his butt on the grass, and slowly slumped to the ground. Jerking to his own knees, Caleb shouted, "Josh!" though he had no idea whether his stepbrother could hear anything. "Josh!"

_HE IS WELL . DO NOT FEAR_

Caleb jerked and looked upward.

Dean had no idea how the words were said, because he didn't think the Angel had moved at all. The words were just there in the park, as though buoyed by wind and air.

Suddenly the face of the Cherubim shifted away from the lion to that of a man, and for the first time he looked down at the three men lying on the grass.

_THE GARDEN IS WHOLE ONCE MORE_

The moment the words were there, instantly the whiteness of light, the storms and the lightening were gone.

**.**

Sam had no idea how dark the world could be. Before he'd felt like he couldn't see anything for the light. Now he thought he was blinded by the darkness.

"I'm blind."

Sam grinned in the general direction of his brother. "Your eyes will adjust in a second."

"It'll take longer than that," Dean groused. He waved a hand in front of his face and could barely see the outline.

"Come on," Caleb said, using Dean's shoulder as a prop to help him stand. He then grasped Dean's arm to pull him to his feet.

"Me next," Sam called, waving a hand in the air.

Caleb pulled Sam to his feet, and they looked back to where the Angel had stood. "I think I prefer Castiel," Caleb mused, attempting to lighten the mood.

Dean grinned. "I guess when angels take on human hosts they're a lot less scary." Though he remembered feeling afraid when Castiel had first shown him his wings so many years ago, that fear had dwindled as he'd gotten to know the angel.

"Not all angels are the same," Sam said, rubbing his eyes. As though he couldn't help it, he went on; "Archangels…"

"Know about them," Caleb growled. They'd dealt with the Archangels during the Apocalypse.

"Cherubim, seraphim, some called the living creatures…"

"Yeah, all right," Dean mumbled, cutting off his brother. Turning, he looked over to where JT, James and Max were now getting to their feet. They looked fine, probably as shaken as they were. Abruptly he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning to the western side of the circle, he froze. He didn't think there could be more surprises in store for them this night, but he was wrong. Three people were moving about in the western circle, and he recognized each and every one. "Dad," he breathed.

"What?" Sam said, frowning. Turning, his jaw dropped.

In the western dome of Joshua's boundary circle stood three men; John Winchester, Mackland Ames and Jim Murphy.

Caleb was already staring into the circle, his eyes hungrily drinking in Mac's smiling face. "Dad," he whispered. He stumbled out of their dome and ran towards where Mac stood.

Sam suddenly took off running as well.

When he reached the western side of the circle, Caleb stood for a moment just looking into Mac's smiling face. Then before he knew it his arms were around Mac's shoulders and his face was wet.

"I'm here," Mac whispered, his arms just as tight around his beautiful boy. "I'm here."

"I've missed you so much," Caleb murmured through his tears. "There have been so many times I've wanted to talk with you, to tell you things, to hear your voice just one more time." Pushing away slightly, he confessed, "I used to try and contact you psychically. I thought if you could just hear my voice, you could contact me back."

"I did hear you," Mac said gently. "But there are some boundaries death cannot cross."

Caleb sighed. "I know. I knew it then too. But that didn't stop me from trying." Sniffing, he turned around, then saw Joshua lying on the ground. Pulling away, he shouted, "Josh!"

Dean stepped outside the dome into the boundary circle, eyes still on their father. It was all like a dream. He hadn't seen his father in thirty years, longer if he counted his time in hell. But even at this distance he could see the familiar mussed and shaggy hair, the stumbled black and gray beard. Caleb's shout shattered his focus, and he turned to see Caleb running toward the prone body on the grass inside the protection circle. Both Joshua and Ryker were down.

"Josh," Dean murmured, changing course, he ran over to Ryker and checked the young man's pulse. Finding it stable, he hurried over to the older man. When he reached Joshua's side, he dropped to knees. "Is he all right?"

"His pulse is slow but steady. I think he's all right." Caleb looked up and gave the area a quick scan before pointing to a duffel sitting a few feet away. "Can you see if there's water in there?"

Dean nodded and scrambled over to the canvas bag. His eyes kept darting to where his father had his arms wrapped around a shaking Sam, who was reciprocating just as fervently.

"Dad!" Max skidded to his knees beside his father, a hand immediately going to Joshua's pulse.

"He's fine," Caleb said with a smile. "Just very tired, I think. I'll have Onida give him the once over when the spell fades."

Max nodded slowly, then his eyes went to Ryker. "I'm checking on Ryker."

Though Dean had already checked, he merely handed Max a bottle of water on his way back to Joshua, knowing the young man would need to check for himself. Max quickly jogged over to where Ryker lay, though the Advisor-to-be was already stirring.

Meanwhile, Mac watched from the half-moon arc attached to the boundary circle. Looking down, he took a deep breath and stepped over the smashed spell jar into the center of the circle. When he didn't disappear into thin air, he hurried over to Caleb, Joshua and Dean.

Dean handed a bottle of water to Caleb, his eyes drifting again to where Sam and their father were standing. John's hand was alternately thumping his son's back, and rubbing it soothingly. He could tell Sam was crying. His eyes went to Pastor Jim, and he saw the older man's tear-filled eyes were on the dome to the north. He followed the Pastor's gaze and saw three other men he recognized by picture only. There was Julian, Guardian of the Triad before Jim's, who had died of cancer too young. He had named Jim as Guardian rather than Griffin, inadvertently creating an irreparable rift in the Brotherhood until Dean's Triad had been able to mend the breech. Next was Maxim, Knight in Julian's Triad, who had also died young; grandfather of Joshua, great grandfather to Max. Sam still had the photo Jocelyn Madrigal had given him the time they'd visited years ago. Lastly, Victor, the Scholar who had left the Brotherhood to retire in Hawaii, broken-hearted at the loss of his Triad. Caleb had met him once decades before, when he'd gone to him for help in trying to find a way to avoid the Apocalypse.

"Dean."

Looking up, Dean smiled. "Mac," he sighed. Clamoring to his feet, he gave the old Scholar a hug, closing his eyes as the ghost sensation of Mac's arms around him faded with the reality; it was a feeling he'd missed for the last decade. When he pulled back, Mac smiled, then nodded toward the dome. Dean swung back around to find his father's eyes on him. "Dad," he choked out. And then he did something he hadn't done since he was four years old. He ran across the green, green grass and threw himself into his father's arms. "Dad."

"I'm here," John murmured into his son's hair. "I'm here. I'm so proud of you; so very, very proud."

Those words were ones he'd longed to hear when his father had been alive, but which had been rarely offered. Now, they were a welcome balm to the long years of hard road.

As though John knew what Dean was thinking, he said, "I should have said that so many more times through the years. You're a son any man would be proud to have. I'm glad I scored the privilege."

Dean leaned back, tears on his face. "I said that to Caleb when I…" he broke off.

Tears fell from John's eyes as his lips curved into a tremulous smile. "I know."

In that intuitive way all parent's have, Dean suddenly turned to see JT standing directly behind him, his eyes on the grandfather he'd never met. Glancing past his son, Dean saw James hugging Mac, grinning up at the grandfather he'd known in life. Smiling, he pulled JT forward and said, "Jonathan Thomas Winchester, this is your grandfather, my dad John Winchester."

John held out his hand and griped JT's. Shaking his head, he said, "You look so much like…"

"My dad," JT interrupted with a smile. "I know."

John felt like his throat closed as he pulled the young man into his arms. "It's so good to meet you at last," he murmured. When he pulled back, JT was grinning and a dark-haired young man had appeared at his shoulder.

"Dad, this is James Murphy Winchester, your other grandson."

Again, John clasped the younger man's hand and pulled him into a hug.

James hugged his grandfather for several long moments before he cleared the moisture from his throat and stated, "Hey, enough with the chick flick moment!"

"And I know who inherited the smart-ass attitude in the family," John grumbled good-naturedly.

"You should hear Mary," Sam said, wiping a face that refused to stay dry. "Her wit puts them all to shame."

"Hey!" James protested.

John grinned. "I've heard Mary," he said. "Lotta her grandmother in her. She could out-scratch a wildcat if she had a mind to."

Sam laughed. He needed to remember that one.

Back inside the park, a shadow fell over Caleb, Joshua and Mac, and Caleb looked up.

"How is my grandson?"

Maxim Madrigal stood over them, tall and handsome, his dark hair mussed and wind-blown. Kneeling, he put a hand to Joshua's face, running his thumb over the older man's cheek in a manner Caleb recognized; it was one Dean had used all the time on the boys, and he supposed was a loving gesture from father's everywhere.

"He's fine," Caleb answered with a smile. "He should be waking up soon."

"This has been a very impressive display of magic," Mac said proudly. "One that will live on in Brotherhood history."

"He wrote it himself," Caleb boasted. Holding out a hand to Maxim, he said, "Caleb Ames."

Mac beamed at Caleb using _Ames_ rather than Reaves.

"My grandson's stepbrother," Maxim stated with a smile, gripping Caleb's hand. Turning to Mac, he said, "And his stepfather." He gave Mac's hand a hearty shake. "Thank you for being the father he deserved."

"The pleasure was entirely mine," Mac replied sincerely.

Max and Ryker hurried over, and like everyone had done thus far, Ryker dropped to his knees and touched the pulse at Joshua's wrist.

Max stared at the dark-haired man and knew who he was. Holding out a hand, he said, "Maxim Sawyer, future Knight of the Brotherhood."

Maxim Madrigal stood and took Max's hand, introducing himself and adding, "Former Knight of the Brotherhood." He glanced over at John Winchester and grinned. "Way former."

Max and Caleb laughed as Mac rolled his eyes. "There's that Knight humor," the latter declared.

Just then Joshua moaned.

"Hey," Caleb said, bending over again. "Hey, you with us?"

"Don't," Joshua breathed, "make me talk."

"Sorry, you did that on your own," Caleb quipped.

"You asked a question," Joshua grumbled, all without opening his eyes.

"Dad?"

That did it, and Joshua pried his eyes open to a bewildering sight. Max was at his left, a dark-haired man standing behind him. And on his right were Caleb and Mac. Jerking upright, his hand flew to his head as the world spun around, and he groaned.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," Mac cautioned.

"Mac?" Joshua whispered, opening his eyes again. Suddenly he looked left and upward. "Grandfather?"

The smile on Maxim Madrigal's face widened into a grin as he nodded.

"It worked!" Joshua struggled to get to his feet, Caleb and Ryker helping him stand. "I didn't think it would, but it worked!" He looked from Mac to Maxim and back again, as though he didn't know who to hug first.

"Let me," Max said, and he stepped forward and hugged his father, whispering, "I'm so glad you're okay. You had me worried."

Joshua grinned, then he was hugging Mac, and Maxim, and Caleb, Ryker and Max again as laughter exploded. "I didn't think it would work, but Pastor Jim told me, so I figured it would."

Caleb frowned. "What?"

Joshua laughed, feeling giddy and light-headed. "Dean said Pastor Jim told him _Strength Through Generations_. He said it was meant for me. I thought, what is the strongest magic on earth? Triad magic. And what could send an impossible Tree back to where it belonged? Triad magic."

"Four generations of Triad magic," Maxim stated with a smile.

"It was the cardinal points Piruz carved into the box," Joshua stated, explaining and not really explaining all at the same time, but feeling the need to say it all out loud after all his work. "They were the deception _and_ the key." Looking over at Ryker, he continued, "You said it, East for birth, South for life, West for retirement and North for death. And the Brotherhood is all connected through generations in more ways than one," Joshua said, looking from Maxim to Mac to Max and Caleb, then over at John, Sam, Dean, JT and James. "I used the power of those generational connections to send the Tree back to Eden."

"Did you intend to bring the Cherubim here?" Max asked. "Cause those were very scary."

Joshua frowned. "The what?"

Pastor Jim stood beside his old mentor, watching the families connect. "I'm so proud of him," Jim said in reference to Joshua. "His creativity and power have allowed us all this moment in time."

Victor stood just to the right of Julian, looking a little out of place. He had no family in this group save his Triad, having left for Hawaii before he'd truly bonded with Jim. He had barely stayed long enough to aid the newly appointed Guardian in choosing a Knight. However, the new Scholar and the new Knight after Daniel Elkins resigned, had been the sole responsibility of Jim. If he had stayed, if he had helped James Murphy through those first few tumultuous months as leader of the Brotherhood, it would have put a seal of approval on Julian's choice for Guardian. Instead he had let grief and sorrow rule his actions, essentially throwing the young Guardian to the wolves. Those wolves had never stopped circling Jim, not until Dean, Caleb and Sam had forced the old guard to accept their tenure in office. Now those old guards were gone, and the new generation of hunters rallied around Jim's choice for Triad, as they would the next generation.

As though he knew what Victor was thinking, Jim said, "We can only offer what we have to give." Smiling, he looked at the former Scholar. "You needed to go. And as you can see, the future of the Brotherhood is secure."

Dean, Sam and John had moved over to where Caleb, Mac, Joshua and the others were talking. Caleb gave his mentor a long, hard hug.

"I can hear you sometimes," Caleb confessed. "When the going gets tough. You tell me to get back up and keeping fighting." Leaning back, he eyed his mentor. "Sometimes you're even a bastard about it."

"That's Senior Hunter Bastard to you, Junior," John said with a grin.

And Caleb's joyous laugh rang out.

JT, James and Max, along with Ryker were talking and milling around, passing bottles of water to those standing nearby. Maxim was watching Max, his namesake, a smile on his face while gently rubbing Joshua's back.

"I should have stayed," Victor said, watching the reunion of those who'd gone through fire together and emerged complete, if not whole. "I let grief overwhelm me. I couldn't see staying in the Brotherhood even one minute longer without you and Maxim."

Julian patted his long-time friend on the back. "I'm sorry I ran out on you, old friend."

"That was such a bleak time in my life," Victor confessed. "I needed the sun so badly I'm surprised I didn't end up in Africa. Mackland faced the same decision and stayed, lending his stability to the Brotherhood and paving the way for the amazing Triad that followed." He shook his head and met Jim's gaze with sorrowful eyes. "Without Julian and Maxim, I just couldn't continue. But if I _had_ stayed, Griffin would have accepted Julian's decision, and the fracture within the Brotherhood would not have happened."

"I don't know about that," Jim sighed. "Griffin would always have thought he was the better choice for Guardian, even if you had stayed. He was set on a course that he thought would lead him to power, and he dragged several good men down with him."

"We should have been better prepared," Julian stated with finality. "Not just you, old friend, but our Triad. We were young and didn't think anything bad could happen to us. Well, it did, and we weren't prepared. But Jim, you learned from our mistake and prepared a generation that not only mended the rifts within the Brotherhood, but took it to new heights."

For the first time Victor smiled, watching the current Triad, and the three young men who would one day soon run the Brotherhood. "And the new generation will be just as successful. _Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts_."

Julian looked over. "William Faulkner?"

"Winston Churchill," Victor said with a grin.

Soon everyone was sitting on the grass near the eastern border of the spell line, talking and laughing, the boys sharing incidents from their youth, about their first hunts, and other details from their lives. Dean and Sam talked about getting used to their roles as fathers.

"I made Caleb and Dean wait up with me all night when Mary turned six months old," Sam recounted.

"We were armed to the teeth," Caleb declared. "Nothing was getting through all the protection lines, spells and ammunition we had waiting.

Laughter followed at the thought of three burly men keeping watch over the princess in her castle room, where familiar dragons from Sam's youth stood sentry, and a silver winged horse flew overhead.

"And Dad lost me once when I was five," JT announced, giving his father a teasing smile.

"I thought your mom was going to skin me alive," Dean stated, recounting the tale of losing JT when the boy was little. He shook his head. "I had flashbacks of losing Sam in that diner years ago. When I found him, he was asleep in the boat at Jim's pond." Dean grinned at JT.

JT laughed. Only John grimaced at Dean's casual mention of losing Sam. He had reamed Dean a new one before finding out that Sam had given his brother the slip because he was angry at him. And Dean had never complained, never explained. It was Sam who had later confessed he'd hidden from Dean, then had fallen asleep while he waited to be found.

"JT played for the Red Sox," Dean bragged. "They won the World Series! Twice!"

The laughter and conversations rolled on. They told about some of James' exploits, and Max relayed how he and JT had a full-time job keeping the younger man out of trouble.

"Oh, I think I've had my share of saving his bacon too," Ryker chimed in. He was sitting near Adam and Onida, who were both watching everything and smiling.

Adam was aware he was being afforded a unique opportunity, and he could admit his prejudices regarding the Brotherhood were completely unfounded. Victor, the Scholar of two Triads ago was situated near him, answering all his questions.

Caleb sat near Mac, his knees touching his father's. He had introduced him to Onida, who had pressed herself as close to the boundary line as she could get, reveling in this miraculous opportunity to speak with one of the most important men in Caleb's life. She had already met John, who had been Caleb's mentor and teacher. But Mac was Caleb's rock just as Dean was his center. Mac wanted to know everything about her and listened as she talked of growing up in Washington on the reservation, about finding out she had a gift and learning to use it, about her failure to find a new Yaotlapializli, and how her search to find a way to end the witches forever had led her to Caleb.

Jim watched everyone talking, a smile lighting his face. When he met Dean's eyes, he nodded.

Dean scooted over slightly so he was closer to the Pastor, though he kept his eyes on Sam and John, whose shoulders were touching as though Sam couldn't get enough of seeing their dad. He was telling John about Mary, how she excelled in her classes, was interested in Joshua's coven, and was best friends with Joshua's daughter Josie.

"This is some powerful magic," Jim observed.

"We didn't know anything about it," Dean confessed. "I dumped the problem in Josh's lap and told him to figure out a way to get the Tree back to Eden. I told him what you said."

"And what was that?" Pastor Jim asked.

"Strength Through Generations," Dean recounted.

Jim laughed. "Yes, sometimes it does take a village, doesn't it?"

Dean's eyes went to Victor, who was spending most of his time talking with Adam. "He feels bad, doesn't he? That he didn't stay to help with your transition."

Jim regarded the man who had been Scholar of the Brotherhood while he'd been a hunter. "Yes."

Nodding, Dean said, "Things happen for a reason. If he hadn't walked away, you might not have been compelled to go outside the Brotherhood for your Triad. Then Mac and Dad wouldn't have been Scholar and Knight, and we wouldn't be here now. Sometimes things work out just the way they were meant to in spite of us."

Jim beamed at Dean. "I couldn't have said that better myself."

"Oh, I don't know," Dean teased mischievously. "You'd probably have been more elegant and used more words. But I would have gotten the drift anyway."

Pastor Jim laughed out loud, causing Caleb to turn his head. "What's so funny?" the latter asked.

"Oh, just the willfulness of fate," Pastor Jim said.

Mac watched Caleb and Pastor Jim talk, then turned to Onida. He had a brief window when he was one on one with this extraordinary woman, and he seized the moment. "I am so happy Caleb found you. I have prayed he would give up his enforced isolation and share his life with someone. I can say I'm glad he kept his resolve until he found you."

Onida felt her face warm along with her heart. "I too was in isolation." She took a deep breath and continued, telling Mac about her childhood love and his death at the hands of the Tah-tah-kle'-ah. "After Marius was killed, and my child died, I didn't think I could ever love again. I focused on revenge, then my work. Eventually I focused on finding a new guardian to train. And then I met Caleb." Her eyes went to the Knight of the Brotherhood, who was laughing at something Dean had said. Smiling, she continued, "The connection was instant. He was the one for which I'd spent five years searching, and he turned out to be more than the savior of my people." She looked Mac in the eye. "He saved me in every way that matters."

"And you saved him," Mac stated. He opened his mouth to say more, but Caleb turned back around. A quick assessment told him something had happened, and he eyed the pair of them. Not wanting to read anyone, he asked, "What's going on?"

"I was telling your father about the owl witches and you're heroic battle to save the Yakima," Onida stated.

Caleb smiled. "And did you tell him the news?"

Onida frowned. "News?"

Caleb took a deep breath and let it whoosh out. "When we killed the witches, we were able to save several of the children that had been kidnapped. Dad, they had been held in dark caves, and some were being changed into witches."

"How horrific," Mac whispered, looking utterly shocked.

Caleb nodded. "Several children were able to be reunited with their families, but you can imagine the hard row those families have ahead of them."

Mac nodded. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, trauma from being held captive, socialization, I imagine in several cases learning to talk, either again or for the first time." He shook his head. "What a daunting task for any parent."

"Exactly. Some couldn't handle the stress, and some kids need homes." Caleb looked to Onida. "We're taking two boys home."

Onida's heart leapt into her throat. "Caleb … are you sure? This, this between us, we're still getting used to us. Are you sure we should add two traumatized children into the mix?"

"They're lost, like we were," Caleb said. Leaning forward, he rested a hand on the boundary line. After a moment, her hand came up to match his. "I was lost, and I found you. Imagine how they feel. They were kidnapped, held captive. They get rescued and their parents don't want them. They need to be wanted, they need to be loved, they need a home where they can play and live and build forts and ride horses. They can go to school with Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas at Joshua's, and they can meet with the psychiatrist Josh hired." Caleb watched Onida nervously. They had spoken about this, talked it through till they were blue in the face, been for it and against it. Now, he'd sprung it on her and he didn't know what she would say.

Mac was watching Onida process the shovel-full of information his son had just dumped in her lap. If he was a betting man, he would guess he was about to become a new grandfather.

Onida stared at Caleb. She didn't want him to come to this decision because he was here with his beloved father, and feeling the euphoria of the moment.

Leaning in, Caleb whispered, "I'd planned on telling you I wanted them when this hunt was over."

That did it. Onida squealed in delight and attempted throw herself into Caleb's arms, but was prevented from doing so by the boundary line. Smacking the wall in annoyance, she gave Caleb a mock glare. "You would have to announce that when I can't hug you."

"We'll make up for it later," Caleb stated, bobbing his brows. Turning to his father, he announced, "You're going to be a grandfather … again! Your…" he counted off in his head, "seventh grandchild is Tristan. He's twelve years old, with black hair and blue eyes. He was kidnapped when he was four, so he'll need a lot of love and attention. Your eighth grandchild is Kaven. He's eight, with auburn hair and the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen. He was kidnapped when he was three, like Nicholas. They've been going to a psychiatrist in Washington, and attending school with the other kidnapped children on the reservation. They're staying with Doctor Maska Etsitty while waiting for a home. She's the one who did the physical evaluations when the children were first found."

Mac couldn't wait any longer. He leaned forward and hugged Caleb so hard, the younger man felt like he couldn't breathe. But he didn't protest it one bit. "Congratulations, son," Mac whispered, tightening his hug even more. "Congratulations." It was everything he had always wanted for Caleb; to have a family of his own.

"What's going on over there?" John asked, observing Mac and Caleb.

Sam smiled. "I'd say Caleb just told Mac he's going to be a grandfather again."

"Seriously?" Dean turned and looked at his best friend. Caleb's eyes were closed and his face was wet. A check of Onida showed tears flowing from eyes. There was a lot of that going around tonight. "Yup, there are more kids coming to Kentucky."

John frowned. "Tell me about it."

Sam and Dean, along with input from JT, James and Max told John about the hunt in Washington. Soon everyone was listening as the tale was told about the owl witches, and the travesty of children kidnapped and held hostage.

"And that's when we brought in Adam," Dean said, pointing to the dark-haired man sitting just outside the barrier.

Adam was in a deep conversation with Victor and Julian, probably grilling them on Brotherhood history and roots.

John nodded thoughtfully. Reaching for a bottle of water, he was shocked when his hand went right through. Pulling back, he knew instantly what it meant: the spell Joshua had cast was fading. Lifting his head, he looked at his sons and grandsons, his heart clenching. He didn't want to leave here. He didn't want to leave his sons. For the first time since Mary's death, he was enjoying being around them in a way that was free from worry and fear; for their safety, for their lives. He could enjoy their anecdotes and tall tales without dissecting whether something nefarious or a supernatural creature was behind the encounters. His eyes went to Dean.

In that unerringly intuitive way that was uniquely Dean, his son suddenly looked up and met his eyes. Sorrow stormed through those expressive green eyes, and he knew Dean understood their time was fading along with the wall.

Sensing the whirl of sorrow, Caleb suddenly looked around at Dean, then his gaze went to John. Eyes widening, he jerked back to face Mac. His father's eyes were sympathetic as they met Caleb's.

"We'll be going soon," Mac said.

Feeling exactly like that thirteen year old kid lying strapped to a bed in the psychic ward, Caleb whispered, "I don't want you to go." And the tears that were so near the surface for all of them, brimmed.

"I know," Mac murmured, reaching up to cup Caleb's cheek. His hand, however, was only a breath of air.

Caleb thought this was worse than when Mac had passed. This was a gift both cherished and bitter, as he needed to say goodbye all over again.

The merriment and laughter faded as the knowledge their time was nearly over skittered through the small group like a jolt of lightning.

Sam turned quickly to John, saying, "Thank you, Dad. For keeping us safe, for making sure we could look after ourselves, for knowing we would need what you could teach us even though I didn't want to learn. I'm sorry for…"

"Sam," John interrupted. He didn't want to hear Sam's apology for acting up, for their stubborn arguments, for their butting heads and their fights. He understood Sam completely, as they were a matched pair. "Through all the years and fights and anger, I knew you loved me. And I believe, through the anger, you knew I loved you."

Sam nodded. "I did, and I do."

John looked past Sam to his brother, his solid rock, his foundation since Mary had died. "I love you," he told Dean.

Dean nodded, his throat tight.

Slowly the merriment dwindled as everyone rose to their feet, knowing the end was near. Since the former Triads could no longer touch anyone, hugs were left off the table as words of love and sorrow, a few last laughs and tears flowed.

Finally Julian looked to Joshua and asked the question that had been hanging unspoken in the air; "Do we need to return to the domes?"

Joshua shook his head as he stood near his grandfather and son. "No." He wouldn't voice it, but the six would simply vanish, returning to heaven and the afterlife.

Julian looked around at everyone. "Well, as the senior Guardian here," there was laughter and a few catcalls. He laughed. "I want to say how proud I am of every one of you. During the hardest of times, you have persevered, just as generations untold have done before you. You are all a tribute to the Brotherhood."

There were smiles and nods around the group, and each turned for final words to the ones they loved.

"I am so proud of you," Maxim told Joshua. "You are truly your mother and grandmother's son. The many times I relied on your grandmother's skills to help me through a hunt are far too numerous to count. I'm so glad her skills are still being used for the good of the Brotherhood."

Joshua thought his heart would explode. Though many years had passed since he'd had to endure Harland Sawyer's condescension and derision for his crafter skills, he abruptly realized those scars of hurt and doubt had remained. Buried, yes, but still felt inside. It was hearing Maxim's unbridled praise and encouragement that made him realize a balm was needed. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

"I know," Maxim murmured. "I was watching."

Joshua nodded, unable to speak.

Maxim smiled and turned to Max. "Another Madrigal as Knight. Have sons and keep the tradition going."

"I'm a Sawyer," Max deadpanned cheekily, and Maxim laughed heartily.

"Well, my boy," Pastor Jim said. "This was quite a gathering."

Dean smiled, though his eyes remained on his father. "Yes, it was."

Jim smiled. "Go on, spend the last few minutes with your father. I'll see you soon."

Dean gave Jim a grin, and hurried over to where Joshua and Max, Mac and Caleb, James, JT, John and Sam were all grouped together sharing one last moment together.

Ryker stood near the boundary line with his father, watching. "This is going to be tough," he murmured.

"Yes, it is," Adam agreed. "But we'll be there for them."

Ryker gave his father a grin. "Yeah, we will."

"We all will," Onida stated, moving over to stand by Adam and Ryker.

"I am always with you," Mac said, wanting with everything in his being to put his arms around his son one last time.

"We'll be together, in the end," Caleb murmured. "I love you, Dad."

"Tell Ben I love him, and Maya," John urged, "and tell him I'm so proud of my great grandchildren Mac and Lisa Anne."

"I wish you could have met him and Mary," Dean said with a look at Sam.

"I watch them all the time," John said with wet eyes. Looking at them all one by one, he said, "JT, James, I love you." Then his eyes were reserved for only two. "Sam, Dean. I am so proud of you both. I love…"

And in that moment between breaths, they were gone.

**.**

Silence hung like vapor over the park. Echoes of laughter so boundless moments before were now threaded with ribbons of sorrow and loss. Moonlight's waning crescent joined the stars in giving respite to the darkness for those who remained on the park grounds.

Sam looked over at Dean, whose hands were resting on his hips as he looked down. JT and James were crowding their father, wanting and needing his presence and comfort. Dean's arms went around both boys as he hugged them close. Suddenly Dean looked up and met Sam's eyes. He smiled. Neither was surprised at the tears trembling on their lashes.

"Granddad was amazing," James said with a grin at his brother.

"He was so funny," JT added.

Eyes still connected with his brother, Dean said, "Yeah, he was." The dad they'd known in life had been traumatize and scarred by the murder of their mother. He had gone from being _daddy_, to being their drill sergeant and fierce protector. But there had been glimpses of the dad he'd been before Mary died through the years. How they wished there would have been more.

"I miss grandpa," Max said, staring at the grass.

"Yeah, me too," James echoed.

JT merely nodded.

Onida stepped over the boundary line and went to Caleb, not touching him or speaking; just being a solid presence at his side.

"I miss them all," Caleb said. It had been a wonderfully magical hour, with everyone back together again.

Joshua walked over. He keenly felt the absence of Mac and was second guessing his spell decision. Maybe he should have tried to find another way, but there'd been so little time. "I'm sorry. I didn't know if the magic would work; I didn't know if the former Triads would appear, or whether they would stay." He looked over at Dean and Sam, then at Caleb. "But I wanted them to. I hoped they would come, and that they would stay for awhile … for us." Sighing, he shook his head slightly. "Maybe that wasn't a good idea after all."

"No," Sam said earnestly. "You gave us the best gift anyone could. You gave me, you gave Dean, time with Dad. Time without the past dragging us down, without the fear of witches or demons or some other supernatural creature coming to kill us. For the first time in my life," he swallowed down the moisture in his throat, "Dad was just dad, loving us."

"You gave me one more hour with Mac," Caleb said, giving Joshua's arm a comforting squeeze. Sighing, he said, "I've missed him so much."

"And I got to meet grandpa Winchester," JT chimed in. "I've been so curious." He looked at his brother James. "You really do look like a combination of mom and grandpa."

Other voices chimed in, with Max saying how good it had been to meet his great grandfather, others talking about either seeing Pastor Jim again or meeting the infamous pastor for the first time.

"Yeah, I'm named after him and I've never met him before," James stated. "This was great!"

Ryker said how good it was to see Mac again, and Adam joined in, saying how he and Ryker had gotten to meet people the others had talked about, and were now able to put names with faces.

Slowly Dean lowered himself to the grass, and after a moment, Sam sat down at his side. Soon they were joined by JT, James, Caleb and Onida, then everyone was sitting on the grass. Joshua and Max sat together, talking quietly about Maxim, Ryker and Adam nearby, alternately listening and talking about what had happened.

Onida was at Caleb's side, her hand tucked in his. "He was wonderful," she said softly. "So wonderful."

Caleb gave her a smile. "Yeah, he was; he is."

Sam's eyes met Dean's, and they lay back on the grass, watching the stars like they'd done so many times in their youth. "I didn't realize how much I missed him until now," Sam confessed.

"I know," Dean whispered. Clearing his throat, he said, "He's been gone so long, you just get used to his not being around. We get used to that dad-shaped hole inside."

Sam gave his brother a sidelong look and smirked. "That was practically poetic."

Dean snorted out a laugh. "I'm trying to be real here."

"I know. But some things just demand a dig. That was one."

Giving his brother a grudging nod, he said, "Yeah, I suppose it was."

"But I know what you mean," Sam conceded softly.

JT scooted over to Dean. "I miss not having granddad around when we were small."

"I miss that for you too," Dean said. He slung an arm around JT's shoulders. "He would have loved being around you both," he said including James, who had crowded in.

"I loved having Grandpa Mac and Grandpa Bobby," James agreed. "Though I would have loved having three, maybe four Grandpas."

"The baby," Max snorted. "More people to spoil you, you mean."

JT laughed. "And grandmas. But I'm grateful for what we had. Grandma Esme, Grandpa Mac and Grandpa Bobby. Many people don't get any grandparents."

"Yeah, I'm grateful too," James said.

There was silence for a little while as everyone thought back over the last hour, relishing seeing those they loved again, committing the moments to memory.

Dean finally looked over at Joshua and said, "Thank you. That was a great gift."

Caleb nodded and added his thanks, and others followed suit. Before Joshua was forced to say anything in reply, they heard the sound of a car engine a short distance away.

Dean rose, followed by Caleb. "We'll go check it out," and they took off jogging toward the northern end of the park and the small parking area beyond.

Sam clambered slowly to his feet, aches in every limb. "Why don't we get all the potions bags and jars cleaned up so we can get some sleep."

Soon everyone was in the center of the park, picking up debris, broken jars and spell bags. Shortly Dean and Caleb walked back into the park followed by Joel and Daniel.

"Looks like you guys put on a wild party here tonight," Daniel said, bending over and picking up a small spell bag. "Why wasn't I invited?"

Caleb laughed. "You got the fun end."

"There wasn't a fun end," Joel countered, cramming some burlap spell bag remnants into a plastic bag.

"Where are Ethan and Elijah?" asked Sam, tossing a trash bag with the remnants of the large spell pouches in it next to his duffel bag.

"At the gym," Joel said. "Since Ethan is Houston PD, he sorta bonded with the Sheriff after you explained everything. The townspeople were given the potion to help against the Tree, and most people fell asleep. But some didn't. They kept us busy asking questions, and there were a couple of scuffles. So we stayed to try and keep things calm. Then that huge bright light went off, and that freaked everyone out."

"Yeah. What was that?" Daniel asked, looking from Dean, to Sam and Joshua.

"An angel," Caleb answered. "A huge, big ass angel."

Sam gave Caleb a disapproving look for his disrespect. "_Four_ very large angels," he added.

Joel and Daniel had frozen at the mention of angels, expressions of astonishment on their faces. As one, they turned and looked at Joshua.

"They weren't that big," Joshua stated.

"How do you know," Caleb griped. "You were working the spell and didn't see them. But they were huge."

Joshua gave Caleb a stern, big brother look and rolled his eyes at Caleb's absurdity.

"Cherubim," Daniel said suddenly.

Sam looked over and smiled. "Yes. God set Cherubim to watch the gates of Eden."

Daniel nodded, and when Sam continued to regard him, he said, "Roman Catholic. I went to a Catholic high school in San Francisco."

"Oh." Nodding, Sam looked around a second before saying, "We need to get the people in the park back to town." Turning to Joel and Daniel, he continued. "Can you guys take them to the high school while we clean up here at the park?"

"We borrowed a truck from the coven leader, and you guys have a pickup," Joel said. "We'll use both then rendezvous back here to bring in you guys."

"Sounds good," Sam said. Looking around, he said, "Max, Ryker, can you guys help us load up them in the trucks?"

Caleb nodded. "I'll text Ethan and Elijah to arrange for them to be unloaded some place without fanfare. No use in scaring everyone."

"Have Ethan talk to Cadmael," Joshua suggested. "It's a good bet Piruz used coven members for the spell on the Tree. He may have a different idea on where to take them. The residents of Lebanon don't know them, so won't miss them."

Caleb nodded and stepped away, typing on his phone.

"Max," JT called, and lobbed his keys to the young Knight-to-be.

Max nodded, and soon the group of six, including Joel, Daniel, Caleb, Sam, Ryker and Max, went to load the sleeping people into the vehicles while those remaining cleared the grass of spell pouches and potion bags. When they finished, they carried the debris and dumped it into one of the metal trash cans near the picnic area. Pulling out his lighter, Dean set it on fire.

Caleb and Sam walked back over, and as a group they all stood around staring, lost in the mesmerizing effects of the flames. Finally, as the blaze dropped lower into the can and started burning itself out, Caleb and Dean dragged the can over to a nearby picnic table. Using one of Ryker's leftover glass jars they dug up some dirt and threw it inside to completely douse the fire. By the time the grounds were cleared, picnic tables put back into place, and all the duffels packed up, Joel and Daniel returned with the trucks, and Max had JT's car.

When Sam asked, Joel relayed, "Cadmael put the coven members at the Community Center. He hopes most will be able to head home before dawn; save more questions for the people of Lebanon."

"That would be welcome," Sam said. "They're being asked to accept a lot as it is."

Yawning, James asked, "We heading back to the hotel?"

"Yes, we all need some sleep," Dean nodded. "Some can ride in the Van…"

"Uh, the Van is crunched," Adam interrupted apologetically.

"What?" Caleb exclaimed in surprise.

"It was a causality of the resurrected spell lines," Daniel said. "Hit the spell front on. Sorry."

Turning to Adam, Caleb asked anxiously, "Are you all right?"

Adam smiled. People over things; that was the way of the Brotherhood, he had learned. "Yes. The coven leader gave me a potion, and it healed my injuries. Then Onida gave me a once over. I'm fine."

"Good, that's good," Caleb nodded.

"So," Dean continued, "we've got the Impala, Ethan and Elijah's SUV, Joshua's SUV, and JT's car."

"Joshua and Ethan's SUVs are on the east side of town," Onida said.

"Okay," Dean said. "Why don't Daniel, Joel and Adam take Mr. Arnold's pickup truck and retrieve the vehicles. JT? You guys can leave from here; get to the hotel and get some sleep."

"But..."

"We'll be right on your heels," Dean assured him. "Once all the cars are retrieved, the rest of us can meet at the gym and divvy up who rides with who, and what to do with the van."

The group made their meandering way through the picnic tables and trees to the trucks.

Daniel, Joel and Adam climbed into Mr. Arnold's borrowed truck while JT, James, Max and Ryker loaded into JT's car. Dean's Triad along with Onida headed over to the Impala.

JT started his car, then leaned out the front window, calling, "We'll see you back at the hotel!"

Dean nodded and lifted his arm, waving until the car disappeared down the narrow dirt road away from the park. Quickly it was followed by Mr. Arnold's truck loaded with the three who would be retrieving the SUVs.

"Always the last to leave the party," Caleb quipped, heading for the Impala.

Sam smiled, though his eyes were on Joshua, who seemed to be moving very slowly. Quietly he asked, "Are you good? You should have gone with JT directly to the hotel."

"I'm fine," Joshua said with a wan smile. "I just thought you three may have questions, so I should be on hand to answer them."

"I think the questions can wait for tomorrow, or next week," Sam said with a smile.

When they were loaded up and on the road, Caleb said, "The Sheriff will want to know what the light was."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. That was going to present a problem.

When Dean didn't add anything, Caleb turned to Joshua and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Very tired," Joshua admitted. "I need a good, long night's sleep … and maybe a massage."

During the remainder of the short ride, no one talked much as the intensity of the hunt, added to the physical expenditure and emotional rollercoaster of Joshua's spell, were finally taking a toll as their adrenalin ebbed. Within five minutes they were parked in front of the Lebanon High School gym.

Cracking open his door, Dean said, "Why don't you guys stay here. I'll leave the motor running for warmth. When the others get back, send as many as will go back to the hotel. We all need sleep."

"I'll go with you," Caleb said, opening the car door and getting out.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed as he climbed out and the two fell into step as they walked toward the gym.

Caleb eyed Dean, saying, "I want to make arrangements for the Tourer."

"A death burial?" Dean remarked dourly.

"No, a mechanic."

Dean stopped and stared. "I'm a mechanic."

Caleb snorted. "I noticed," he quipped, continuing on.

Dean growled. "Why don't you ask me to fix it?"

"Because I haven't had a chance," Caleb declared. "I haven't seen the damage, I don't even know if it's salvageable. And we're in Lebanon Kansas, not New Haven Kentucky."

Dean stared at his best friend for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Sorry. It's been a night."

Caleb sighed. "Yeah, it has."

Dean wanted to talk about everything that had happened, from his condemning Piruz to a far-overdue death, to the finale in the park. But right now? He was simply too tired for words.

"Know what you'll say to the Sheriff?"

"I think so," Dean said. "We'll have to come back tomorrow, smooth things over."

Caleb leaned in and opened the double doors.

They stepped inside to see a different gym than when they'd been here just a couple hours before. Gone were the folding chairs, and in their place several blankets and sleeping bags littered the ground with people lying on top.

"You see the Sheriff?" Dean murmured.

Caleb shook his head. Closing his eyes, he gave the room a psychic sweep for Ethan or Elijah. When he opened his eyes, he pointed toward the back end of the gym. "Ethan's over there."

Together they made their way along the gym wall in an effort to avoid stepping on anyone. Ethan saw them coming and met the pair at the back of the gym near the locker room doors.

"Everything is back to normal," Ethan whispered. "Aggressive behavior has stopped, and the ones who were most affected seem confused about everything. It's just like Houston. The confusion, the holes in the memories; people can't believe they'd acted like that." Shaking his head, he continued, "Though some were still unconvinced about a biological weapon introduced into their drinking water, the Sheriff was able to convince everyone to take the potion. Cadmael, Elijah and I will cleanse," he used air quotes, "the water well tomorrow."

"We'll be back too," Caleb said. "This hunt needs smoothing over. Plus I need to check out the van."

Ethan nodded.

"Where's Elijah?"

"In the gymnasium with the children. With most of the adults down after taking the potion, he wanted to keep an eye on the infants and toddlers. William, Keith and Elena, a few other coven members, are there as well."

Sheriff Howard approached and shook Dean and Caleb's hands. "Is everything secure?"

"Yes, you have nothing to worry about," Dean said, adding, "I hope the search lights didn't startle anyone in town."

Caleb and Ethan stared as the Sheriff looked a bit startled. "Search lights?"

"We had to use the ultra high search lights in the park near town," Dean explained. Caleb turned and took a few steps away, pretending to pull out his phone. "We got word of a couple of cell members that had slipped through our net," he continued, ignoring his best friend; the traitor. "You understand how difficult it is to search for anyone at night. We had a helicopter stationed nearby. We called it in to aid with the search, and the stragglers were caught."

Sheriff Howard frowned. "I didn't hear any helicopter."

Dean leaned in and said in a low tone, "RAH-66 Comanche Stealth Helicopter. Been in use by the Department for a couple years now. I would appreciate you're keeping this confidential. We don't want word of our resources getting out. You know how people talk."

"I know how to keep a confidence," Sheriff Howard assured, giving Dean a knowing look. "Most people won't remember much of the night anyway. And if anyone asks, I'll say there was a power surge in the town's electrical grid, causing the intensity of light. No one will question it."

"Thank you," Dean said, shaking the Sheriff's hand again. "You'll have a lot on your plate the next few weeks, but I know you're the man to handle it. If you don't mind, we'll be back tomorrow just to tie things up."

"We want to check the water supply too," Ethan stated.

"I would appreciate the support," Sheriff Howard said. "Now, why don't you boys bed down, get some rest. Tomorrow will be here soon enough."

"Thank you, we will," Dean said. Giving the Sheriff a nod, he and Ethan walked over to where Caleb was standing. Dean gave Caleb a glare. "You were laughing?"

Caleb grinned. "A stealth helicopter? Seriously?"

Ethan grinned as Dean scowled.

"The Sheriff came up with a better story, and he wasn't even trying," Caleb chuckled softly.

"I'm tired," Dean hissed defensively.

"And when did you have time to look up different types of stealth helicopters?" Ethan asked curiously.

"I didn't. I read an article about them on the Internet."

Caleb shook his head, grinning. Instead of teasing Dean further, he asked Ethan, "You planning on staying here, or going back to the hotel?"

"I'll stay here. Elijah and I can take it in turns to watch the kids and get some sleep."

"You're SUV is outside," Dean said. "The keys are probably in the glove compartment."

"I'll come with you and check. Don't think it'd get stolen, but with high school boys around, you never know."

Once outside the gym, Ethan searched the lot before spying his rental. He jogged over, opened the door, and after half a minute came out with his keys jangling softly in his hand. "See you tomorrow," he called out softly before disappearing back into the gym.

"Let's head back to the hotel," Dean said, yawning.

"You realize it's an hour drive away," Caleb said. "We're all tired, so we'll spell each other."

Giving a nod, Dean opened the Impala's car door. Warm air wafted out into the cool night. When he leaned down and looked inside: Onida was gone while Sam and Joshua were both asleep. Sighing, he shut the door quietly and looked across the roof to where Caleb was smirking. "Where's Onida?"

"She sent me a text, said she was driving back with Daniel and Joel in case we needed to talk."

Dean nodded. Shaking his head slightly, he said, "Can you make sure everyone else is headed back to the hotel? With so many of us involved and tired, I don't want to leave anyone behind."

"Yeah, hang on." Caleb reached out with his senses, and after a moment he smiled. "The boys are on their way back; Adam's with them." He closed his eyes and reached out for the warmth and light that was Onida. He felt the wink of bright light, and Onida opened herself up. _See you soon_, Caleb sent along their connection, and he opened his eyes. "Confirmed Onida's with Joel and Daniel; we're good."

"Then let's get to it," Dean said. "I'm ready for a long, hot shower."

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: I hope you guys liked this chapter. I think I cried writing and rereading it!_

_Impala1979: As soon as I read your review of Chapter 29, I giggled, knowing this chapter would tickle you!_

_Thank you again to all those who reviewed; I wait with barely-contained impatience after I post a chapter to hear your thoughts. So thank you loads!_


	31. Chapter 31

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 31

.

The ride back to the hotel was long and taxing, not because of the distance, but the weariness Dean felt in mind and body. He didn't want to think about what had happened that night, not yet. So many complex emotions were attached to the events, they would take time and contemplation to sort out.

Mirroring Dean's thoughts and feelings, as he so often did after having grown up and hunting together, Caleb said, "When we get home, we need to rest, then take some time to talk this hunt through."

"Why?" Dean asked stubbornly.

Caleb rolled his eyes. Now wasn't the time to deal with a truculent Dean. He was simply too tired.

"I agree," came a low voice from the backseat.

Dean jumped slightly, then glared at Sam in the rearview mirror. "Don't do that," he hissed.

"What?" Sam's eyes widened innocently, though a glimmer of mischievousness lurked in their depths.

"You know what," Dean glowered before adding, "Bitch."

"Jerk," came the expected reply. Leaning forward so as not to wake Joshua, Sam pressed his case. "I'm just saying we need to talk everything through." Dropping his head slightly, he added, "I know I need to talk, especially about dad."

"I think that is a very good idea," said a second voice from the back seat, causing Sam to jump.

Dean smirked at his brother in the mirror.

Sam gave Dean his patented "bitch face" before glancing around to the other occupant in the rear seat, saying, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Joshua shifted and yawned. "Driving in this car has never been an eventful nor restful experience."

The ages old gripe had the affect of dispelling the note of sorrow and reflection within the confines of the car, effectively pushing the discussion to a future occasion. Despite Joshua's legendary quirk for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, Sam thought he often said the exact right thing when it was needed.

"How much longer till we reach the hotel?" Joshua asked.

Noting the threadiness of exhaustion in Joshua's voice, Caleb said, "We're almost there. Only a half hour to go. Why don't you try and get some more sleep?"

Joshua shifted again. While the remarks aimed at Dean's cherished car were meant to circumvent a conversation none of them were ready to tackle, he truly did not find the Impala as comfortable as Sam and Dean seemed to believe it was. Maybe that was because they had virtually grown up within its doors, driving for hours on end and playing in the back, sleeping on these seats. But for him, they were hard and uncomfortable.

Sam saved Joshua from having to reply at all by saying, "I think I'll ask for a few days off."

"You've already had a few days off," Dean said, his brow furrowed. "Will the University understand?"

"I've got tenure, and I just got published in ABA Magazine. They won't like it, but they'll deal."

"You got published somewhere?" Dean asked. "Why didn't I know about it?"

"The issue with my article hasn't dropped yet. I'll give you a copy when it does."

"Getting published in ABA Magazine is very prestigious," Joshua stated, impressed. "They're very selective on which articles and authors they publish. How did you get in?"

"Oh, thanks," Sam snorted, amused and slightly offended. Maybe he needed to rethink Joshua's saying the right thing occasionally. It might have been a fluke.

Joshua rolled his eyes. He often wondered if eye rolling was catchy. He had never rolled his eyes before officially becoming the Advisor to his Triad. Maybe he should consider making a concerted effort to break himself of the habit. But then again, there were times when it came in very handy. "I wasn't referring to your intelligence, written eloquence or veracity. ABA is the number one magazine for lawyers, and receives thousands of articles for consideration a year. Many from such elite universities as Princeton, Harvard, Duke, Northwestern…" he waved a hand, "and others you know. Those professors tend to get noticed by their association more than their intelligence. But you stood out. I'm impressed and cannot wait to read your article."

"Thanks," Sam said sincerely.

"What's it on?" Caleb asked.

"The legal implications of drone use in suburban communities."

"Wow," Caleb said. "How did you think of that?"

"The students at the University are always flying drones around campus and using the footage on YouTube, Vimeo, Metacafe and other online platforms. I began to wonder about the increased use, not only for entertainment, but in law enforcement, and the legality of using footage without the consent of bystanders caught on camera." Sam shrugged. "I did some research and wrote the paper. The University didn't think there was much to it, but I submitted it to ABA anyway. They accepted it for print."

Dean grinned at Sam. "Well done, Sammy. I can't wait to read it."

"You're each getting a copy, or several," Sam said with a grin. "I want to make sure that edition sells out."

Laughter followed that pronouncement, giving the tired occupants a jolt of energy they needed, as they didn't pull into the Holiday Inn Express until a little before four in the morning. They climbed slowly from the car, weariness and stiffness making the process more arduous than normal.

After taking a minute to stretch, Dean said, "I could use some coffee."

Sam's eyes widened incredulously. "We're heading to bed, Dean."

Snorting softly, Caleb opened the doors to the hotel and held them as everyone trooped inside. "Sam, after all these years you know that coffee is Dean's wake-up and sleep-time drink of choice."

"I could make you a potion to counter the caffeinated effects of the coffee," Joshua offered as they boarded the elevator. "Then you'd be able to sleep better after having a cup."

Dean looked horrified.

After a few seconds, the elevator pinged at Dean and Sam's floor. When the doors slid open, the pair walked off with only a short _goodnight_.

As Sam slipped his keycard into the door lock, he heard Dean muse, "Potion to counter caffeine. I wonder if he can really do that."

**.**

Sam lay in bed, comfortable and warm after such a tough evening. Since Caleb had reserved the only suite in the hotel, he and Onida were sleeping there, with Joshua and Max in the second bedroom. James and JT had decided to sleep there as well, using the plush sofa bed to crash on. Sam and Dean had retained their old room, as had Adam and Ryker, and Joel and Daniel. After a shower that was shorter than he would have liked, Sam had yielded the bathroom to Dean and climbed into bed. So much had happened over the last few days, he had thought he would drop off immediately, but he hadn't. He'd been awake during Dean's swift shower, the same when he came out and climbed into bed. And now, long after the room had gone silent, he was still awake.

"You awake?" Sam asked softly. He knew with instincts honed through years of sleeping in the same room as his brother that Dean was awake. But asking the question allowed his brother the option of declining to talk if he so chose.

After a heartbeat, Dean said, "Yeah."

Sam shifted onto his side. "I can't sleep."

Dean huffed out a laugh. The statement was so Sammy, and brought forth a myriad of memories from when they were kids. Rolling over to face his brother's bed, he said, "Yeah, I can't either."

Sam nodded. He didn't say anything for awhile, just let his gaze drift around the darkened room.

"You think Caleb's asleep?" Dean asked.

"I think everyone will have some trouble sleeping tonight," Sam said with a sigh. Then after another long moment, he whispered, "It was so surreal to see dad."

Dean nodded. He was sure Sam wasn't looking in his direction, though with the room so dark, seeing the nod would have been unlikely regardless.

There was another lengthy silence before Sam continued. "I'm not going to say I wish he'd been the man I saw tonight in life. Who he was made me who I am, and I love my life. Being the Scholar of the Brotherhood, working with you and Caleb, teaching at the University and, most of all, having Mary."

When Sam didn't continue, Dean looked across the room at his brother's silhouette and waited.

"But I wish we'd had more than an hour," Sam murmured finally. "I was enjoying getting to know dad without all the bogeymen and baggage."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, there were a lot of bogeymen in our youth. Lotsa baggage too."

Sam smiled. "Yeah," he sighed. "He said he was proud of you." It had been important for him to hear that. All throughout their childhood and young life, Dean had often gotten the short end of the stick with regards to their father's approval.

"Yeah, he did," Dean agreed. The words had been welcome, though he hadn't truly needed to hear them any longer. Through the years he'd made his peace with their father's toughness with regards to him; the unneeded reaming, the flashes of anger directed his way without cause, the times John vented his spleen on Dean rather than Sam, when it was Sam who had been in the wrong. What he had truly loved hearing tonight, was that he was loved. Though he'd known that John had loved him, he had never really felt all that loved. It had always been Sammy who had dominated the apple of their father's eye.

"He loved you," Sam said, as though reading his brother's thoughts.

"I know."

"No," Sam said, leveling himself up on his elbow. "I mean he loved you in a different way from me. He loved me because I demanded his attention, asked endless questions and challenged him. You were his rock. He could never have continued in his quest for mom's killer without you."

Dean felt stung. "You think I'm the reason he hunted?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Sam assured quickly. "He would have hunted anyway, after mom. But you were the one that kept him _dad_, and not just a hunter."

Dean did not like the direction of this conversation. He'd made his peace with the fact that their father had loved Sam more than him. That though he'd followed every rule, did everything he could to be the man dad would be proud of, it was Sam whom John loved most. Now it was sounding like Sam had a different take. "Listen, I don't think…"

"No, you listen," Sam interrupted, pushing himself up. "Dad was hard on you growing up, no doubt. And it wasn't fair; _he_ wasn't fair. But he didn't love me more than you, he made that clear tonight. But he did love us differently."

"I don't want…"

"He loved me as his baby boy," Sam talked over Dean. "He wanted to protect me, make sure I was safe, he always viewed me as the baby he rescued from the flames. But that night, he gave me to _you_, and that's the difference. You were the one he turned to when he needed help, you were the one he relied on to keep us safe, you were the one he leaned on to keep the house he provided clean and warm, and you were the one who was always there."

"Yeah," Dean parroted with asperity. "I was the one too pathetic to leave, to strike out on my own, to find my own identity, as you've pointed out before." He grimaced inwardly. He hadn't really meant to hang out that old dirty laundry, an unfortunate exchange between him and Sam years before. Luckily, Sam refused to rise to the bait and ignored it.

"No, Dean. I was the baby, the sand shifting under his feet. You were his rock, the one he relied on, the one who knew him better than he knew himself." Sam watched Dean, and through the darkness, he could see the hurt evident in Dean's frame. "You know, tonight, when I was hugging him, he looked for you to give him support."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Even in death dad gets a little squirrely with a lot of affection," Sam commented with a short laugh. "We were hugging, he was crying, I was crying, he was rubbing my back. But after a few minutes, he sought you out."

"No, he…"

"And when his hand went through the bottle…"

"You saw that?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Yeah, of course I did. But he looked directly at you, not me." Sam shrugged. "I would have looked for you too."

Dean's frowned deepened. "Sammy, he loves you…"

"I know that," Sam smiled. "I know he loves me, I've never doubted it. But I want you to know that he loves you just as fiercely, just differently. We aren't the same. Growing up, I was jealous of you so many times, because I thought dad loved you more than me."

Dean chuckled. "I thought he loved you."

"_More than me_," Sam finished.

Caught off guard, Dean frowned. "What?"

"You should have said, _I thought he loved you more than me_," Sam said softly. "See, you view dad's love for you, as _you_ gave love to _me_, as he did. But it took me a long time to realize that the love he gave you was just as important and vital as the love he gave me. We aren't the same people; we have different things to give, and different things we need. I saw that tonight, and I'm so glad I did. Now I can love him without feeling resentful that he might have loved you less."

"I…" Dean's mouth snapped shut. He'd always known dad needed him to be there, to take care of Sam, to take care of him when necessary. He'd never thought of it like dad loved and needed him to be that rock, the one that kept him going. This was going to take some getting used to, and all of a sudden, he didn't feel as sorrowful. "Dad loved me."

Sam grinned. "Yup, he did, and he loved you for you and all you brought into his world. And he loved me for all I brought into his world." Suddenly he yawned.

Dean smiled. "Let's get some sleep, Sammy. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Sam lay back down and shifted around until his covers were just right and the pillow cradled his head just right and his blankets covered him completely. Yawning again, he said, "You know Caleb's jetliner is waiting to take us home."

"Not without Baby," Dean mumbled around a yawn.

Grinning, Sam murmured, "Maybe we should just drive."

Eyes closing, Dean whispered, "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

It was close to noon when Dean and Sam walked up to the suite on the top floor and knocked.

Caleb opened the door, saying, "Come on in. I ordered lunch brought up."

"From where?" Sam asked, closing the door. It wasn't like there were a lot of options in Hastings Nebraska.

"That Italian restaurant we went to…" Caleb broke off, frowning. "Man, that seems like a very long time ago."

Sam grinned. "Napoli's," supplied, adding, "Yeah, it does."

"I called the manager this morning, and he agreed to do lunch for us," Caleb finished.

Dean passed him by, making a beeline for the table where Onida and Adam were sitting. The younger generation was clustered around the coffee table in the suite's small living room.

"Hey dad," James called.

"Morning son, JT, everyone," Dean said. Picking up a plate, he went to the sideboard to check out the offerings. There was spaghetti and meatballs, Lasagna, Ravioli, and slices of Italian pizza covered in meat, olives, tomatoes and cheese. He piled his plate high, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. When he turned for the table, Sam was on his heels piling up his own plate. Sitting, Dean asked, "Where's Joshua?"

"Still asleep," Caleb said, with a worried glance at the Advisor's room. He had retaken his seat at Onida's side. "Onida said he was just exhausted after doing that spell when she checked on him this morning, _after_ she healed JT's shoulder," he stated pointedly, with a sour look at his godson.

"I forgot," JT shrugged as he took a bite of pizza.

Dean had swung in his son's direction. "JT?"

"I got hit by a potion. It caused some damage to my arm, but I used Adam's potion on it, and it was fine."

Max snorted softly at the word _fine_, and Caleb growled.

"Okay, not totally fine," JT admitted. "But I was still able to fight."

"You know the rule," Dean stated.

"We don't hide wounds," JT parroted.

This time it was Sam who snorted. When Dean scowled in his direction, he met his brother's eyes square on, though he refrained from voicing the often used pot/kettle idiom … barely. After all, it was pretty rich that Dean was now reaming his son for not disclosing a wound when he himself had made a career of doing the same.

Caleb didn't have any such qualms about not voicing the double standard. "This from the King of Suck-it-Up," he muttered. When Dean turned his displeasure his way, Caleb merely shrugged. "Don't think that'll work on me," he stated. "I've known you your entire life, and your angry looks don't work anymore."

Dean sighed. Turning back to JT, he said, "You're okay though?"

Smiling, JT nodded. "I'm fine. James was hurt worse than me."

At Dean's stricken look, James muttered, "Oh, thanks for that."

"Sometimes you gotta divert attention," JT murmured.

"What happened?" Dean demanded.

Max stepped in, to James' surprise, and tried to downplay the incident a bit. "He was caught in the vortex of a couple of protection lines when they went back up suddenly. But Elena came over and helped stabilize his bodily functions until Onida healed him."

Dean went completely white. "Stabilize his body functions," he mumbled dazedly.

James jumped to his feet and ran over to his father. "Dad, I'm fine, I'm fine. It was like I got electrocuted. People never die from getting electrocuted."

If Dean could have gotten paler, he would have as his eyes jerked to Sam.

"Check him over again, please," Sam urged Onida.

Knowing there was something happening that she was missing, Onida immediately got to her feet and went over to James, who stood still while she closed her eyes and checked his vitals. After a moment, she opened her eyes and smiled. "A very healthy twenty-three year old," she stated.

Nodding in her direction, Dean dropped his fork and stood. "I'll be right back," he murmured, and walked out the door. After a moment, Caleb rose and followed.

"What happened?" James asked, his eyes on the door.

JT stood and walked over to the table, taking his father's seat. "Uncle Sam?"

Sam sighed. "Years ago we were hunting a rawhead. It had taken a couple kids, and we found them in a basement. The rawhead was coming, and Dean told me to get the kids to safety."

"Rawhead's can only be killed with electricity," Max stated softly, frowning.

"Up to one hundred thousand volts," Sam confirmed. "I had taken the kids up the stairs and the rawhead was bearing down on Dean, coming at him straight on. Despite the fact that he was standing in a puddle of water, he used the taser."

This time it was JT and James' faces that went white.

"He was electrocuted. The doctor gave him a month, at most, to live."

"Someone healed him?" Onida asked. Something had happened, since Dean was very much alive.

"I found someone to heal him," Sam said, forcing a smile onto his face. "A faith healer."

JT frowned. There were no true faith healers. "What happened?"

Sam told them about Roy Le Grange, how Le Grange's wife was controlling reapers with an ancient type of cross known to be used in black magic. "When Le Grange healed someone, the wife would send the reaper to kill someone else."

Onida gasped slightly. "How horrible."

"When we destroyed the cross, the reapers took Sue-Ann. They didn't like being controlled."

"So dad was electrocuted," James said slowly.

Sam nodded. "But it was a long time ago, and he's fine, obviously. He's just afraid for you, for all of you."

JT dropped into a seat, wishing he hadn't said anything about James' injuries.

"We can't anticipate everything," James said to JT, taking Caleb's seat next to his brother. "I'm the one who used the great example of electrocution."

"This is a dangerous gig," Sam said. "Though I believe it's safer now."

JT snorted, still looking remorseful.

"No, it is," Sam stated fervently. "When Dean and I grew up, Dad taught us everything we know, and he prepared us the best he could. But we didn't get the formal hunter training Caleb has put together for those in the field. We didn't have the online resources Alison and I have worked on, or the monster courses Mark Wright put together. Dad learned what he could from Pastor Jim, but he relied more on his military training and honed that through the years with what he learned in the field. And he was amazing, he really was. But one of the things I'm really proud of is how hard Caleb and Dean have worked to make a difficult and dangerous job at least a little safer for hunters."

"You too, Uncle Sam," JT said.

Sam smiled. "And me too." While he wasn't in charge of the hunters like Caleb, and didn't lead the charge like Dean, he too along with Alison had worked hard to streamline information and to make sure hunters had everything they needed to be successful, and more importantly, to come out alive. Yeah, he thought their Triad had helped make a dangerous and treacherous vocation safer. "Just know that the thing Dean fears the most in this world, is something happening to you boys," he said, looking from JT to James to Max.

"We'll work as safely as possible," JT said solemnly.

"And watch out for each other," James added.

Max nodded. "And use all our training to kill the bad guy and come out unscathed."

James snorted "Unscathed?"

"You're not the only one with a great vocabulary," Max declared, before giving the other two members of his Triad a silent vow to always watch out for their safety. He planned on his Triad retiring together, just like Dean's.

**.**

Caleb rushed down the hallway to catch up with his best friend. "James is fine," he said, regretting that he'd brought up JT's injury.

Dean merely nodded as he climbed onto the elevator. He just needed some air. "Why don't you…" He broke off as Caleb pushed in beside him. Sighing, he nodded and hit the _one_ button.

They didn't speak again until they were outside the building and walking around the parking lot.

Caleb gave Dean a sidelong look. "What are you thinking?"

Giving a soft snort, Dean said, "You mean you haven't read me?"

"Sometimes saying something out loud is beneficial."

"That coven woman," Dean said. "She had to stabilize his body. Do you know what that means?"

"That he was in trouble."

"That he was in danger of dying," Dean exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down but not succeeding, if the look he got from a couple of hotel employees was any measure. "He almost died."

"I know."

Dean's head jerked up. "You know? _You know?!_ How can you be so calm?!"

"Because I lost you," Caleb said simply.

That stopped Dean in his tracks. Giving a slow exhale, he said, "It's hell."

"Yes," Caleb agreed. "But they're going to hunt, they may even die on a hunt. We need to be prepared for that."

"I don't think I can do it," Dean said softly.

"Yes, you can," Caleb stated. "We can. We do our best to arm them for everything. We train them, teach them, make sure they're the best fighters around."

"We do what our parents did," Dean said.

"And better. They'll do fine," Caleb agreed. "Just like us."

Dean snorted as he changed direction to head back for the hotel. "Not a good argument, Obi wan. As you said before; I died."

"Maybe you lost that battle," Caleb said earnestly. "But you came back, so we won the war." Opening the hotel doors, he walked on through.

"Yeah," Dean whispered. "We won the war."

* * *

Following lunch, half the team was getting ready to go their separate ways. Dean, Sam and Caleb stood outside in the parking lot watching Joel and Daniel toss their things into Joel's truck. The day Caleb had found out Joel was alive, and that Daniel had driven the Tourer to Nebraska, he had called Sal, long time employee of Dean's who now managed Dean's second auto repair shop in Louisville. He asked Sal to make a second key, and to find someone to drive Joel's truck to Hastings. It had arrived the night before.

"I can't believe you had the truck driven from Kentucky!" Daniel exclaimed, walking around the vehicle. "That just shaved a day off our trip back to California."

Caleb handed Joel the second key. "It's been so crazy the last couple days, and I know I said this before, but…" he smiled, "welcome home."

Joel nodded. "Being in Eden is something I won't forget for a very long time, but it's great to be back."

Looking over at Daniel, who was shaking hands with Dean and Sam, Joel said, "We need to get home. I have a great desire to sleep in my own bed."

"I've got a neighbor who is tired of looking after my dog," Daniel stated, walking over.

Joel snorted. "She wants to look after more than your dog."

"Shuddup, y subir al auto," Daniel sniped, giving everyone a wave as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Joel frowned. "This is my truck. I should be driving."

"Say that in Spanish, and you've got a deal," Daniel quipped, grinning.

Joel thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm too tired." Sighing, he walked around to the passenger's side and climbed in.

The hotel doors opened and JT and Max walked out in time to wave off the two hunters.

"We're going to get on the road," JT said.

"If we drive straight through," Max said, "we should get home around one in the morning. I already let Mom know I would be coming so she doesn't get freaked."

"I think you're dad will be home before you," Caleb remarked. "You sure you don't want to fly with us?"

Max shook his head, looking over at the front doors as Ryker, James and Adam walked through. "We came together, we'll head back together."

"You check in with your dad this morning?"

Max nodded. "I already said goodbye. He's upstairs getting a shower." Sighing, he said, "I'll be glad when we're home and he can get some rest."

"I'll have Onida give him another look," Caleb said.

Max smiled. "Thanks."

James walked up and put his duffel in the trunk. "When are we heading out?"

"Now," Max said. Tossing Caleb a grin, he walked over to where Ryker was talking to Adam and Sam.

"You boys staying at the house?" Dean asked, following JT to the car.

"Yeah. I thought I'd take a day or two before heading back to North Carolina." After tossing his duffel in the truck, he leaned into the car frame by the driver's door. "I need some time with family."

Dean nodded and smiled. "Good."

Turning, JT called out, "Let's get this show on the road!"

Adam accompanied Ryker over to the car, and soon all four boys were pulling out of the parking lot, passing Ethan and Elijah as they pulled in.

"It's like a circus around here, with all the cars coming and going," Caleb remarked.

"Don't talk about circuses," Sam muttered.

Adam gave Dean a wry look, sensing that Sam and circuses were not a good combination. "I'm heading inside to gather my things."

"And check on Joshua?" Sam asked under his breath.

"That too," Adam agreed before heading to the double doors.

Ethan parked and he and his brother climbed out of their rented SUV. Ethan stood for a moment and stretched while Elijah walked slowly over to Dean, Caleb and Sam, yawning widely.

"How was Lebanon this morning?" Dean asked.

"Recovering," Elijah said, coming around the front of the vehicle. "The people are freaked. It's going to be tough, but they're used to hardship; they'll recover."

"I've already been in touch with Ben this morning," Sam said. "He's going to send in a couple counselors to help people cope with the trauma."

"We checked the _water_," Ethan said, using air quotes. "Took samples and added the _antidote_."

"Stop doing the air quotes thing," Elijah grumped. "It's weird."

Ethan ignored him and continued. "The Sheriff had the water turned off for the moment, but once Cadmael show him the tests results were clear, he agreed to turn it back on." Moving past Elijah, he looked to Dean. "The Sheriff is expecting to see you today."

Dean nodded, watching the twins walk into the hotel. Turning, he said, "How about we get this done so we can get home too?"

* * *

_Back in Lebanon_

"Damn," Caleb said, walking around the front of the Tourer, surveying the damage. "That spell really crunched the front."

"Like an accordion," Sam concurred.

Caleb rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that."

"No problem!"

"You don't need to sound so cheery," Caleb grumped. Shaking his head, he blew out a long breath. "Well, I suppose I can have it towed back to Kentucky."

Onida, who had been standing nearby watching, looked startled. "You want to tow it back home?"

"Not home," Caleb said. "To Dean's garage."

"Why don't you have someone fix it here?" Sam asked. "Better idea, why don't you just dump it and buy another one. Do you even _need_ another one?"

"You don't just dump stuff because it needs fixing, Sam," Caleb stated. "Besides, I know the best mechanic in the country."

"Do you think Dean will have time to fix this?" Sam asked, eyeing the crumpled front end.

"He'll make time," Caleb said confidently. He knew his friend, and working on an elite car like this one would tickle his friend right down to the bone.

Onida just shook her head and strolled away to lean against the wall of the abandoned gas station. She wasn't inserting herself into this argument.

"It'll cost you more to tow it home and fix it than to buy another!"

"Don't exaggerate, Sam," Caleb huffed. Pulling out his cell, he placed a call and began making arrangements to have the Tourer trucked to Kentucky.

Sam threw up his hands and walked down the sidewalk to where Dean was talking to Sheriff Howard.

Caleb watched the Scholar's retreating back, then looked over at Onida. Snorting, he muttered, "Trash."

"The only reason you're bringing the Tourer back to New Haven is so Dean can work on it," Onida remarked sagely, sauntering back over to Caleb and giving him a kiss. This was one of the things she loved about him. He would drop thousands of dollars so Joshua could work on his spell in comfort, then spend more money so Dean would work on the van, a van he never needed. "You think he'll enjoy it, so the tow is worth it."

Caleb grinned. "Just keep that under your hat."

"Dean will know."

"Yeah, he will. But the van will come in handy for taking all the kids to Disney World."

Onida's eyes widened. "Disney World? All of them together?"

Pulling her into his arms, Caleb whispered, "We'll make Dean sit in back and entertain them. He's good with children. We can learn from him."

Letting her shoulders relax, Onida smiled; for the future and all its possibilities. "Then the trip's on."

Sam walked up to find that Dean and Sheriff's conversation was winding down.

"Your team checked the water in the tower and found it safe," Howard said. "So we've turned the water to the town back on. People are a little nervous about drinking it, as you can imagine. Ladow's will need to stock extra-large containers of drinking water for the next few months, but we'll weather the storm."

"I know you will," Dean said confidently. "We're going to be sending in some support if people need counseling."

"It will be much appreciated. I think a lot of people will want to talk, especially those who got out of hand with friends and family."

"They'll all need to talk that through," Sam said. "Those who activated violently, and those on the receiving end. Letting the hurt go will be a challenge."

"It will. But as you know," the Sheriff said, nodding to Dean knowing he also was from Kansas. "Midwest folk are made of hard stock. We've been through a lot to keep this town on the map. We'll get through this too."

"Thank you again," Dean said. "Do you need anything else from me?"

"Healing is best when it's between family and friends. I'm sure you would agree."

"Yeah, I do." Dean handed him a card that was blank save for a printed phone number. "In case you need me, leave a message. I'll come."

Nodding, Sheriff Howard merely tucked the card into his front shirt pocket. Stepping back, he drawled, "Ya'll stop by when you come back through these parts, ya hear?" Then he gave them a wink and walked off down the street.

Dean watched his retreating form a moment, before saying, "Let's go drag Josh and Adam away from Mr. Coven Leader guy."

"Cadmael," Sam supplied.

"Yeah, him."

They fell into step on their way to the Community Center. "You know Caleb expects you to repair his van, right?"

"Why doesn't he just junk it?" Dean asked casually.

"According to Caleb, you don't throw things away just because they're broken," Sam relayed.

"Since when? Caleb goes through cars like tissue." Though he was engaging Sam in the conversation, Dean knew exactly why Caleb would go to the expense of bring the van to New Haven: so he could have the fun of working on it.

"He kept his first car until it died," Sam reminded his brother.

"Yeah, I know." Caleb's very first car had been a blue jeep wrangler their dad and Bobby had restored for his sixteenth birthday. Mac had declared it a death trap, but Caleb had driven that car for years until it had finally stopped running for good, too weary to go on. The fact that it had gone from being in Dean's barn to the garage at Caleb's house - where it still remained even after all these years - was a testament to how much he valued the gift. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Making arrangements to have the van towed to New Haven."

Dean shook his head in amusement as he leaned in and opened the doors to the Community Center. Caleb was a study in contradictions. He would drop thousands in a heartbeat if one of them needed something, or if it would make his friends comfortable, but have anyone but Dean work on the repairs – for free, probably – was against his monetary code. Grinning, Dean walked through the Center lobby to the rooms beyond. He was going to have a lot of fun working on that van.

They followed the sound of voices down the hallway until they stopped outside a small room at the end. Inside were Joshua, Adam and Cadmael, talking intently about protection spells and all their myriad of differing types.

"So you can use heart magic to protect something, as well as soul magic?" Because of working with the Brotherhood, Joshua knew more than almost anyone about protection. In fact, he rarely revealed the depth of his magical knowledge with anyone save Ryker, and to some extent, Adam. But he mainly dealt in earth, herb and mineral magical components. He was familiar with other sorts of magic, but hadn't used them as regularly in his work. Now, he thought this was something he would very much like to explore.

Cadmael nodded. "We can bend almost anything into protective magics."

"How did you learn all this?" asked Adam, obviously fascinated.

"From my family," Cadmael said. "We can trace my ancestors back to nearly two hundred and fifty BC. Their teachings have been passed down from generation to generation to us today."

"What a wonderful legacy," Joshua said.

"You two ready to head home?" Dean asked from the doorway.

Adam nodded and rose. When Joshua turned around, Dean was struck by how tired he still looked. His face was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. It was no wonder Adam had insisted they come to this meeting together. Yet in spite of his outward weariness, Joshua's eyes were alight with interest.

"Yes, we're ready." Joshua rose. Turning, he held out a hand to Cadmael. "I am honored to have met you. I hope we may speak again in the future."

"As do I," Cadmael said, shaking first Joshua's hand, then Adam's.

The two men followed Dean and Sam out into the sunshine. Casually they headed in the direction of the small, out of service gas station down the street where the Impala was parked.

"Mr. Coven Leader…"

"Cadmael," Sam corrected irritably.

"Won't repeat what happened here, will he?" Dean asked, giving his brother a smirk. Teasing Sam when he was tired was a lifelong hobby.

"No. Aside from the fact he doesn't know all that occurred last night, his coven deals in discretion and secrets," Joshua said. "What happened here will remain confidential."

"Good. We don't need Nadine hearing about it."

"Dean," Sam admonished. He didn't like Dean speaking caustically about Joshua and Adam's coven in front of them.

"No, he has a right to be concerned," Adam interjected. "The magic Joshua used, that I used, was very powerful, and she would want to know, understand and use that power."

Joshua nodded slowly. "There are some magics that shouldn't be used except in the direst of circumstances."

"She wouldn't be able to use it anyway," Sam said. "She doesn't have access to the kind of magic you do." Triad power was Brotherhood and only Brotherhood.

"That would not stop her from attempting to recreate such magic," Joshua said. "She would see it as her duty to our coven. Therefore, I will not be writing down anything of the spell I used."

Dean looked shocked. "But that was amazing work. Why wouldn't you record it? We could safeguard it for you, Josh. You worked too hard on that spell not to let it live."

Joshua smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. "It would be too risky."

"Not if it was in the Tomb."

This was the first time Dean had mentioned the Tomb in front of Adam.

Adam frowned, looking from Joshua to Dean and Sam, then back again. "The Tomb?"

Joshua eyed Dean, then slowly, he smiled. "A very special place. I'll show you when we get back."

Eyeing all three of them, Adam asked, "Does this mean I'm a member of the club?"

Dean pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out. "Only if you want to be."

"There's no pressure," Sam said. "This isn't something you step into casually. But the ring is there if you want it."

Adam didn't answer as he stared at the ring, mesmerized. Did he want this? Did he want to become a part of this organization? He was already helping without jumping in with both feet. Was he ready for that?

Sam took the ring from Dean and nodded. When Dean and Joshua had walked on, he said to Adam, "When Mac gave me my ring, I didn't wear it for over twelve years."

Adam's head jerked up in surprise.

"I wasn't sure being in the Brotherhood was the right call for me back then. So I put the ring in a drawer and left it there. It wasn't until Dean, Caleb and I became the Triad that Dean insisted I wear it. My father was the Knight of the Brotherhood, and he never wore a ring. If you're not ready, Dean will understand."

Slowly Adam reached out and took the ring. As he held it, he could feel the magic in the silver band. But was he ready for this? It had only been a year since he'd held the Brotherhood in derision, only a year since he'd discovered that the members were honorable, smart, loyal and selfless men who fought in the shadows. Honorable. The word echoed in his head. "Since Washington, it's been an incredible, eye-opening year. But I don't want to hunt, not like you do. But I can offer my skills when they're needed. Is that all right?"

"Each member offers what they can. Dean's son Ben doesn't hunt, but he wears a ring and is a valued member of the Brotherhood. Many others don't work in the field. There's still a lot you need to know, grasshopper."

Adam nodded. His son was a member of this organization, as was his own best friend. Looking down, he slowly slid the ring onto his hand and felt the magic zing through his body. Looking up, he saw Sam was smiling. "Then maybe it's time I learn."

* * *

Caleb pulled back into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn Express to drop off Dean and Sam. Everyone took the opportunity to climb out of the SUV and stretch their legs before Caleb, Joshua, Adam and Onida would head to Central Nebraska Regional Airport for their flight, and Dean and Sam being the long drive to Kentucky.

"Did Ethan and Elijah get off all right?" Sam asked Caleb. Caleb was usually Ethan's contact of choice, since they worked so often in the field together.

"Yeah. Their return flight to Houston took off at four. They couldn't get a direct flight, but considering the only stopover is Denver, they should be on the ground in Houston by about eight-thirty tonight."

"That's good. I hope they can get a day off." If had been a tough couple of days, and Sam thought Ethan and Elijah deserved a day of relaxation."

Caleb walked with Sam over the where Dean was giving his car some careful scrutiny, probably making a mental list of every ding, dent and scratch. "Elijah may be able to take a day, but Ethan won't. Too much happened recently, and he'll want to have a presence in the precinct."

"He can't work twenty-four seven," Sam stated.

"He'll do what he's got to do…"

"Yeah," Sam said, smiling. "Just like all of us."

"The boys should beat us home," Dean said, crouching down and checking the front end of the Impala for perhaps the tenth time.

"Yeah, they left a few hours ago. But we," Caleb said to Joshua, who was pacing around his rented SUV stretching, "should beat them home." Leaning against the driver's door next to Onida, he said, "Sometimes it's good to have your own transportation."

"Yeah, it is," Dean echoed, standing and giving his Baby a pat on the hood.

Joshua shook his head. He was tired and wanted to get going. Adam was already sitting in the back seat of the SUV, his eyes closed and his head resting against the seat riser. And though Onida had remained standing outside, she looked more than ready to be back in Louisville.

Sensing the need to shove off, Caleb pushed off the SUV and walked over. "You ready?"

"Definitely," Joshua said, even as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Can I have a quick moment before we head to the airport?"

Caleb smiled. "Of course"

Joshua stepped aside and called home. When Carolyn picked up, he said, "Hi Sweetheart. We'll be home in a few hours."

Carolyn sighed, closing her eyes in thankfulness. This hunt had worried her, and she was beyond grateful that Joshua was on his way back. "I can't wait. We missed you. Hang on…"

A moment later Joshua heard breathing on the other end of the connection. Nicholas still didn't fully understand the concept of telephones or that when he took the receiver, he should speak so the person on the other end knew he was there. It was endearing, and Joshua grinned. "Hello Nicholas."

"Daddy," Nicholas said.

"Yes, it's Daddy. I'm coming home today, and I'll see you very soon."

"Back?" Glee and anticipation threaded through the young voice.

"Yes, back." There was a small sound that had Joshua frowning for a brief second, until he realized it had been a giggle. Grinning, he said, "I love you, Nicholas. I'll see you soon."

"Love you, Daddy."

There was the sound of movement, then Carolyn came on and said, "Be safe, but get here soonest."

"We're taking Caleb's jetliner. I'll be there yesterday."

Carolyn laughed. "I love you, Joshua Sawyer," she said, and hung up.

Smiling, Joshua closed the phone slowly, then headed to the waiting vehicle with a lighter step and climbed inside. He was going home.

"Well," Caleb said, moving over to where Sam and Dean lingered beside the Impala. "We'll beat you home. I sent Alison and the teams an email last night letting them know the threat has been contained. I'll send out a more detailed one on the flight and call, fill her in on everything. Of course, Alison won't be happy until she hears from you," Caleb told Dean. "Once you're on the road, call. I'm sure she's been waiting."

Dean nodded, winching only slightly. He knew Caleb would fill Alison in on how Piruz died. While he didn't like killing humans, Piruz had to be stopped. He wanted no other Triad to deal with him, especially not his children and godson. He would lose sleep for days to prevent that.

If Caleb hadn't taken out the wizard in battle, he would have tried to spare Caleb and Sam the task and taken out Piruz himself, despite Caleb's high-minded determination to do the deed. Long ago he'd come to the realization that, with his past, he just wasn't that honorable. Before he'd accepted the role of Guardian, he'd had to examine himself through the lens of the ancient Greek aphorism _Know Thyself_. Know your limits, know your motivation, simply know yourself. After he'd returned from hell, he'd had to come to terms with his tarnished past. In their Triad, honorable went to Caleb, humanitarianism went to Sam, and the dirty deeds went to him. He'd accepted and made peace with that. He could live with it.

Caleb eyed Dean and suppressed a sigh. He knew exactly how his friend saw himself, and didn't for the life of him understand how someone so intuitive with regards to everyone else could be so blind when confronted with his own valor and worth. Catching Sam's eye, he merely shook his head slightly and went to double check their luggage.

Sam also knew what Dean was feeling. None of them would ever have wanted to kill a human being. He had tried to reason with Piruz, but the man was set on a tac that wouldn't be altered. Though he knew Dean would brood about that, he and Caleb would make sure he didn't do so for long. Suddenly he yawned. They needed to get on the road, and he planned on being obvious about it. Giving Caleb a short wave, he walked to the passenger's side of the car and climbed inside. Closing the door, he rested his head against the window.

Caleb and Dean exchanged looks, then chuckled.

"We'll call when we get back," Dean said.

"And we'll set up a time to talk about last night," Caleb stated. After seeing Mac, he knew he would need to talk at some point. Dean, however, would brood and ponder about last night's encounter for as long as he and Sam let him.

"Yeah," Dean said in a noncommittal manner. He walked over to his car and opened the door.

"It's happening," Caleb called out. "Don't think you're getting out of it."

"I'll mark my calendar," Dean muttered as he climbed into the car. Turning the key, the Impala's eight-cylinder engine revved loudly. It was one of the most cathartic sounds; had been since he was a child, and he sighed. The tension dribbled from his neck and shoulders and he sank back into the leather seat, replete with padding worn through the years to fit his frame. Raising a hand, he waved to the others, pulled out of the parking lot and set his course toward home.

* * *

Caleb walked through the small, private section of the Nebraska Regional Airport carrying four cups of coffee. It had been a long day already, and all he wanted to do was relax in the comfortable chairs of his Hawker 1000. After dropping everyone off at the terminal doors, he had returned the SUV to the rental booth and picked up the caffeinated beverages. While most hunts were exhilarating and he would have felt satisfaction at a job well done, this hunt engendered so many feelings, he felt like it would take him a month to sort through his emotions. Seeing Mac again had been surreal. The memory stood out in his mind like a shining beacon, yet it also felt like a dream.

"Good evening, Mr. Reaves."

Caleb nodded to the young man that held open the door to the tarmac. "Evening, Lee." He walked on through and headed for the stairs of his jetliner, to where Adam, Joshua and Onida waited.

"Ooh, good," Onida moaned, seeing the coffee and making _gimme_ motions with her fingers.

Caleb grinned and handed her a cup, then passed one off to Adam and the last to Joshua. "I didn't get espresso in case anyone wanted to take a nap. It's not a long flight, but we didn't get a lot of sleep last night either. We should touch down in two hours."

"I can't wait," Onida said, smiling. "I want to sleep in my own bed."

"I can't wait to see Margaret, Maisie and Lucas," Adam said. "It feels like forever since I've been home."

"It will be nice to get back on our schedule," Joshua agreed.

Caleb sat next to Onida and thought of how different this flight was from the last time he'd been on the plane. Then, he and Sam had been mourning Dean. It had been such a shock to lose him at Freshkills Park. But even that emotion seemed like such a long time ago, so much had happened.

The Hawker taxied out to the runway, then waited until their flight was cleared for takeoff. Onida's head hit Caleb's shoulder, and she was asleep before the jetliner lifted into the air. Smiling, Caleb shifted back into his chair and closed his eyes.

Adam and Joshua were sitting on opposite sides of the aisle, when suddenly Adam got to his feet and dropped into the seat next to Joshua. Taking a deep breath, Adam said, "Dean gave me a ring."

"I noticed," Joshua smiled.

Adam nodded, not saying anything further for a few minutes.

Joshua merely waited, letting his friend get his thoughts in order.

"I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing."

"By putting on the ring?" Joshua asked quietly.

Adam nodded.

"Then take it off," Joshua said gently. Seeing Adam's surprised expression, he continued, "The Brotherhood isn't the mafia. You can choose to enter it, you can choose to leave. You can also choose to bid your time, keep the ring and not wear it. Did Sam tell you about when he received his ring?"

Adam nodded. "He said he put it in a drawer and didn't wear it until he became a member of the Triad."

"Even then it was Dean who insisted he put it on," Joshua said. "He once told me that when he finally slid it onto his finger, it wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be."

"So you think I should wear it?"

"I think you should do whatever you feel in your heart. You put it on today. That doesn't mean you need to keep it on." Joshua watched his friend studying the ring and frowning. "My advice would be to take it off when you get home. Put it in a safe place, and continue to learn more about the Brotherhood. You'll know when and if the time is right to put it back on."

Adam regarded the silver band. It seemed like such a simply thing, to put on the ring. But it wasn't. It was a commitment to an organization, like the coven. Looking up, he said, "You said you felt pulled in two directions when you became part of the coven while a member of the Brotherhood. Is there peace now?"

"When I look back, I was torn between what I thought were two conflicting positions. You know my history. In my youth, I was pulled between my father's view of what I should do, and my mother's. I took that conflict and applied it to my loyalty to the Brotherhood and loyalty to the coven. It took me a long time to realize the conflict wasn't in them, but in me and my acceptance of myself. When I learned to accept who I was, the rest became easy."

Adam frowned. "You didn't like being torn between the coven and the Brotherhood."

"No, not at first. In the beginning I thought I would be hiding things from each, and that the tightrope I walked in my youth would continue throughout my life. But in truth, their aims are not so dissimilar. Both seek to keep evil at bay in some fashion."

"What about sharing knowledge?"

"There are coven things that are strictly the coven, and there are Brotherhood things that are strictly the Brotherhood. Dean has never pressured me to share discoveries of the coven with him and the Brotherhood."

"The same cannot be said of Nadine," Adam stated.

"No," Joshua admitted. "For her, whatever enhances the coven is above all other considerations. Dean views saving people from danger as above all else. He takes great pains to make sure I am not placed in a position that would compromise me with the coven, and I take pains to make sure dangerous Brotherhood magic does not get into the wrong hands. Like the spell I wrote. Even if I was solely a member of the coven, I would not share that spell. It is too powerful for anyone to use unless absolutely necessary."

Nodding slowly, Adam said, "So, in the end we follow what is good for all people, not merely the coven."

"That is my path. You will need to choose yours."

"_Ask questions from your heart, and you will be answered from the heart_."

"Mattaponi saying?" Joshua asked curiously.

"Omaha," Adam said with a smile.

* * *

The Impala was silent save for the rhythmic hum of the tires on the road and Sam's steady breathing in the passenger's seat. There was an air of nostalgia in the air, not only because of the lingering memory of having just seen dad, but from the numerous times they had driven through the night just like now. Driving like this would always be like a warm blanket for Dean; comfortable, well worn and loved.

Listing the wheel slightly to the right, Dean exited the freeway toward the truck stop along the highway. He didn't absolutely need gas right now; he could probably have driven on through to Sam's in Louisville if he'd wanted. But the tank could use a top-off, and he wanted coffee and something to eat.

He knew the instant Sam woke and turned to smile at his brother.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, blinking around.

Dean, knowing his brother wouldn't appreciate the _truck stop_ reply that sprang to his lips, said instead, "Columbia Missouri." Just then his cell rang. Getting out of the car, he answered it with, "Aren't you in bed yet?"

Caleb laughed. "Not yet. Our flight didn't leave Nebraska until seven. We landed in Louisville at just after nine. I dropped off Adam and Joshua, then came home."

"Where's Onida?"

"Asleep," Caleb said. "This was an exhausting hunt for her."

"Yeah, she used a lot of energy on this gig," Dean said, thinking of James and JT.

"James is fine," Caleb said, reading Dean like a book, "and so is JT."

Sighing, Dean nodded even though Caleb couldn't see.

"I've just sent emails to the field leaders. They'll confirm the threat has been eliminated. I got a _no-duh_ reply from Bradley, the same from Riley." Caleb paused. "You'd think they'd have grown out of that kind of sarcasm by now," he complained.

Dean huffed out a laugh. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam standing outside the car, lifting his arms over his head in a long stretch. "Anyone else have anything to say?"

"Not really. Raylan said, _will do_, and Jody said Jackson and Steve were on their way back to South Dakota. Gideon Matthews said he was looking forward to his dad being back, and Lane checked in, saying things hadn't gotten that out of hand in New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada or Utah."

Lane Matthews was Elijah's son and backup Scholar for JT's Triad. Gideon, Ethan's son and second in line for the position of Guardian, had been field command for Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi. Though each had needed to widen their quadrants when Ethan and Elijah had gone to search for the Triad, they had plenty of support within the hunting community.

"Good." Suddenly Dean yawned.

Sam walked over to the pump, inserted a credit card and started fueling the car.

"Unless something urgent comes up, I told everyone to take the next couple of days off. They earned it," Caleb said. "So, where are you at?"

"Columbia Missouri," Dean said. "We're stopping to stretch our legs, get something to eat and fill the tank."

Though he knew it would be a futile suggestion, Caleb made it anyway; "Why don't you stop somewhere, get some sleep before finishing the drive."

"Naw. I'd rather drive on through."

"You won't get home till close to four in the morning."

Dean smiled. Home. "I know."

"All right. I'll finish up and head to bed." A wicked smile crept over Caleb's face. "It's going to be great; warm blankets, comfy mattress, a soft woman to…"

"Shuddup," Dean gripped, snapping his phone shut. "Idiot."

"Caleb talking about being home already?" Sam asked with a knowing smile.

"Rubbing our faces in it, as usual," Dean replied. Eying his brother, he said, "Do you want to stop some place and sleep, or continue on?"

Sam's brows rose. He wasn't used to Dean offering a detour, especially when he was on his way back to Juliet. Returning the nozzle to its slot, he smiled and shook his head. "No, let's get back. Mary's coming home this weekend."

"She is?" Dean said as the pair of them started for the convenience store.

"Yeah." Sam didn't elaborate on the fact that he'd needed to see Mary when he thought Dean was gone. "She hasn't been home in a few weeks and needed some dad-time."

"Maybe we should have a barbeque on Saturday, since James, JT and Max are home too. If Ben's off, he and the kids can come up from Nashville."

Sam smiled. Dean always loved having everyone over when any of their children were home. "Sounds good."

Once they'd bought coffee and sandwiches, they got back on the road.

Sam ate his meal, then slumped in his seat sipping his coffee. "What do you think about Caleb adopting two kids?"

Dean glanced at his brother, then returned his eyes to the road. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, just thinking about that revelation. A few months ago when they'd heard of the three kids from the kidnapping needing homes, he'd asked Caleb whether he wanted to take a couple. Caleb had turned the question back on him. Now, he thought about how much bringing two boys home would change Caleb's life. Finally he said, "I hope I didn't talk him into it."

Sam eyed his brother, then snorted softly. Dean: always worrying about everyone. "Give him some credit for making his own decisions."

Dean snorted. No one talked Caleb into anything … except maybe him. "I asked him whether he'd thought about taking some of those kids like Josh and Adam. I went on about how they'd be near Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas." Shaking his head, he declared, "I talked him into it."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. Sometimes Dean was too close to see the forest through the trees. He also had a habit of shouldering much more guilt and responsibility than was his due. "Don't underestimate your best friend."

"What do you mean?"

"Caleb is a traditionalist, always has been. For him, family is marriage, kids, barbeques, white-picket fences, the whole nine-yards. You're a lot like him, save for the marriage part. In fact, I am too. We're Midwest down to our toes. He's been a big part of our kids' lives for years; babysitting, taking them shopping, coaching them in sports, helping with homework. Last year in Washington gave Caleb the opportunity of a lifetime: to have his own family."

"He has his own family," Dean remarked stubbornly. "Us."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You know exactly what I mean."

Reluctantly, Dean conceded, "Yeah, I guess."

"Caleb could have had a family years ago, if he'd wanted. Yeah, he didn't want to have kids, but forcing himself into self-imposed solitude was melodramatic, even for him. There are procedures called vasectomies that would have ensured he didn't have kids."

"He was afraid his demon DNA would override a vasectomy," Dean said, though he agreed that Caleb's stance on the relationship issue was over the top.

"Still, he could have had that checked periodically. He and his wife could have adopted, he could have made it work if he'd wanted."

"Sometimes fear of a thing makes us back so far away, the thing gets lost in the distance," Dean said slowly.

Sam looked at his brother, and nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah."

There was silence for a few miles as each was lost in their thoughts.

"I think he's going to be an amazing father," Dean said suddenly. "He's half kid himself, always has been."

Sam grinned. "I know, right? Of course, having two kids will mean he and Onida can't hunt together anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Someone's got to stay home with the boys."

Dean snorted. "Knowing Caleb, he'll hire a nanny."

"Not with two traumatized kids."

"We'll find a way," Dean said. "We always do." After a moment, he grinned. "He'll probably make Max babysit. He'd consider it passing on the tradition."

Sam laughed. "I'd love to see that."

Dean settled back in his seat, leaning slightly against the driver's door, letting the miles and the road relax him a way few other things could. He knew Sam felt the same, as he heard his brother sigh and slide a little lower in his seat. Yeah, Joshua may diss his car, but it had many charms of its own.

The hours passed and soon, they were on the outskirts of Louisville. They had changed driving duties a few hours ago, but on this last stretch Dean was back behind the wheel. Patting Sam on the arm, he murmured, "We're almost home."

Sam pushed himself up straighter and yawned, staring out the front window. After a moment, he said, "Let's go to the farm."

"You don't want to go home?"

Maybe seeing dad, Mac and Jim had made him nostalgic, but he really wanted to go to the farm. JT and James were there, and Juliet. More important, it's where Dean would be. "I am going home."

Dean nodded. It was early, and Juliet would be up soon getting ready for work. They would have their reunion tonight, but right now, he could think of nothing more perfect after this hunt than heading to the farm with Sam.

Less than an hour later the Impala pulled up to the old farmhouse, its front beams lighting the refurbished porch. Dean switched off the headlights and wasn't surprised when the front door opened and Juliet stepped out.

"Morning, boys," Juliet said with a smile.

Dean didn't ask why she was up. He knew, he always knew. She would have slept lightly, waiting for the rumble of the Impala's engine to signal his arrival home. He walked up the couple of steps and pulled her into his arms. "Morning."

"Hey, Juliet," Sam said with a smile.

"Hey, Sam. The bedroom has fresh sheets and there's clean towels in the bathroom like usual." Giving them both a smile, she disappeared back into the house.

Sam huffed out a deep breath and looked out into the familiar yard, to the old barn silhouetted against the moon, and the pond beyond. So many memories here; echoes of laughter and tears, heartache and joy all saved in their minds and hearts.

"Home," Dean said with a smile, pulling back open the screen door.

"Home," Sam agreed, following his brother inside.

.

TBC

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you all for the wonderful comments. The last chapter had me tearing up as well, so its nice to know that I'm in good company with others who love these characters as I do. __One more lap around the ring and this rodeo is done!_


	32. Chapter 32

The Chaos Tree

Chapter 32 - Epilogue

.

Dean paced the front porch, nervously waiting for Caleb and Onida to get to the farm. Juliet was inside, putting the finishing touches on the newly refurbished bedroom. There were two new baby kittens in there because Juliet said girls loved kittens. He wouldn't know; he'd raised boys. He'd grown up with boys surrounded by men. The only girls in their circle of family and friends were Sam's daughter Mary, Joshua's daughter Josie, and Ben's daughter Lisa Anne. None of those children had been raised by him. Girls were unknown territory, and he was terrified.

The screen door squeaked and Sam walked out onto the porch. Watching his brother a moment, he said, "Juliet's just as nervous."

"I don't think we're doing the right thing," Dean stated.

Knowing it was Dean's nerves talking, Sam said encouragingly, "You're going to do great."

"You should have taken her in. You know girls, you raised Mary and she's perfect."

Sam smiled. It hadn't been easy raising Mary on his own. But while there had been many challenges, he was proud of the fact that their history was littered with more successes than fails. "If the circumstances had been different, I would have loved taking her myself," Sam said, a note of regret in his voice. "But someone who's been through what she has… Well, she needs more than what a bachelor who works too much can do."

"You would have done amazing," Dean stated, defending his brother.

Sam smiled at his brother's vehement tone. "No, I wouldn't. Raising Mary was different. I had you and Caleb to help when necessary…"

"And we would still be around to help," Dean interjected.

"I know," Sam conceded. "But Lydia also helped, especially when Mary was older. I was able to hire a nanny to watch her until she got old enough to be on her own after school. With Clarissa," he shook his head. "She needs someone there all the time; she needs to realize she's loved, she's protected, she's wanted. With Juliet choosing to scale back her time at the clinic to be home when Clarissa gets out of school, with you being close by if Juliet gets stuck with an animal emergency, she's got two backups until she gets used to the rest of us. I just don't have those resources."

It was obvious to Dean that Sam had given this a lot of thought, and his heart ached that his brother had wanted to bring this child home. "Well, you're expected to step in a lot over here," he said.

Sam smiled and said it again. "You're going to do great."

"I don't know what I was thinking, saying yes," Dean sighed. "I'm going to suck at this."

"You're not going to suck at this," Sam declared. The very thought of Dean being lousy at parenting was laughable. "And you were thinking there was a little girl that needed a home."

"Jody wanted her to live at Bobby's."

"But here, she would be around other children who were kidnapped by the witches rather than in South Dakota on her own. She could go to school with them and get counseling."

"Joshua's building a small, one-room classroom on his property."

Sam nodded at the segue away from the child. "I know." Dean was letting his nerves run rampant. His brother would have been on firmer ground with a boy. But he had every confidence Dean would do just fine. He'd had no problems with Mary; he would do wonderfully with Clarissa.

Dean merely nodded. Suddenly he spun around. "Things are going to be different."

"Most changes are different."

Dean scowled. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah it's going to be different, just like you coming to live at the farm and me going to school in New York was different. Like you hooking up with Juliet was different, and me getting married was different. Just like you having JT and freaking out about this newborn life was different, and Ben coming to live with you was different, and me having Mary was different…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Dean interrupted sourly.

"And like Caleb and Onida was different," Sam added. "Onida fits right in, though I know you were worried."

"I wasn't worried," Dean protested.

"You were, but Caleb didn't know."

"If you knew, he knew," Dean groused, then added, "Damn it."

Sam laughed. "My point, is that things are always different. Now we'll have three new little ones to raise and spoil. They deserve it." He dropped onto the porch swing. "I'm interested in seeing how Caleb and Onida deal with two young boys. It's harder, I think, when they're not toddlers and babies."

Dean looked around, frowning. "Joshua and Carolyn don't have any problems with Nicholas."

"Nicholas is a sweetheart. Tristan and Kaven might be stronger willed."

"Maybe. But then, Mac adopted Caleb when he was thirteen, and he was a handful. I think he'll be able to relate."

Sam nodded. "You're right. Every kid is different. The most important thing is giving them our love and support." He eyed his brother, hoping Dean would consider the words for himself as well.

Over the last few months since finding out there were three children who needed homes, Dean and Juliet had talked in depth about bringing the children to the farm. They had plenty of room for kids to roam and play. And for school, Joshua had done an amazing job of having a teacher specializing in trauma victims teaching the children their lessons, as well as supplying a counselor and speech therapist, all of whom were members of the Brotherhood medical organization overseen by Ben Winchester. When Caleb announced he and Onida were taking the two boys, that had left Clarissa Sadler as the only child left without a forever home. Dean and Juliet knew they had to act. While Jody Mills had expressed interest in taking her, she and Dean had discussed the situation. In the end, Jody had agreed it would be better for Clarissa to live in Kentucky near the other children.

There had been over forty children rescued from the Tah-tah-kle'-ah, and most had been reunited with their families. Now after a year, many parents were struggling to deal with such acute trauma. Doctor Etsitty - with the aide of the Brotherhood medical arm in Washington - was trying to offer all the support she could in helping families deal with the special needs of their children. The goal was to keep the families together wherever possible. But while some were stabilizing through hard work and counseling, many were still in flux. She warned Dean that there may be more children in need of the special care that either families within the Yakama tribe or the Brotherhood could provide.

When Dean and Juliet had decided to take Clarissa, they'd spent several nights in conference with Doctor Etsitty discussing Clarissa's situation since her rescue, her school progress, and how well she could communicate.

"Fairly well," Doctor Etsitty had relayed. "She was four when she was taken, therefore her verbal skills were well under development. It's amazing how much vocabulary and language skills children learn between the ages of three and four. Since her liberation, Clarissa hasn't talked much, like most of the children, but she understands quite a bit."

"What about her connection to her parents?" Dean had asked.

"Tenuous," Doctor Etsitty said. "She doesn't really remember them, and since the parents have five additional children, any bonding between parent and child has been minimal. There just isn't enough time in the day."

"So, you think she could bond with us?" Juliet asked.

"It will be work, just as it would have been work for her parents, but yes. Bonding will happen. It's inevitable."

Those words had settled the decision for Dean and Juliet, and they'd said yes to bringing Clarissa home to Kentucky.

The screen door creaked again and Juliet stepped out. "What's taking so long?"

"I don't know," Dean said, his eyes on their long drive. "Maybe they broke down somewhere."

Sam snorted. "This is Caleb we're talking about. His cars don't break down."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the Tourer," Dean remarked caustically.

"That was Adam, not Caleb."

"I've worked on all his cars for years. I know how he drives."

Ignoring that, Sam pointed down the driveway. "There they are."

"Can we do this?" Juliet asked Dean.

Seeing Juliet so nervous helped to calm Dean. Taking her hand, he gave it a comforting squeeze. "Yes, we can."

"But all we've raised is boys," Juliet fretted. "Ben, JT, Jimmy, Sam, Caleb…"

"Hey!" Sam protested. "You didn't raise me."

"I did," Dean countered.

"Yeah, well, that's true," Sam conceded. "But I was a grown man when you two got together."

"You should see you boys on football night," Juliet snorted. "Kids, all kids."

The SUV pulled up in front of the house, and Caleb opened the driver's door and climbed out. "We're here!"

"I noticed," Dean remarked, walking down the front steps.

Onida stepped out of the passenger door and turned, opening the side door. Inside were four children, all staring outside with wide eyes. Dean's dogs milled around the van, sniffing at the tires, jumping on Caleb, and sticking their noses inside the back, curious about the children.

"Come on, Bit," Dean said, grabbing the small greyhound around the middle as he attempted to scamper up into the van. The small dog lapped at Dean's face, dancing around his legs in excitement at the prospect of new playmates.

"All right, introductions are in order," Onida said. "This is Lomasi Ayala. Dean, you met her when you were in Washington."

Dean smiled. "Hi, Lomasi."

"Hi, Mr. Dean," said the thirteen year old girl. Lomasi had Onida's gifts, and had been kidnapped by the Tah-tah-kle'-ah for those abilities. Now she and Jacy, a young boy also exhibiting gifts, took lessons from Onida once a month. The rest of the time their studies were under the supervision of Joseph Whitetail, the tribe medicine man.

When Onida and Caleb had flown to Washington to bring back the children, Onida had thought it might be a good idea to have Lomasi come with Clarissa and stay with her for a couple weeks. Kaven and Tristan would have each other at Caleb's house, but Clarissa would be alone, kid-speaking. Since the girls were closer in age, Lomasi could help sooth Clarissa and ease her transition from Washington to Kentucky until Clarissa got used to the routine and to Juliet and Dean.

For the next couple days, all the children would have a sleepover at Dean's, while Caleb and Onida stayed in the guest room. Tonight, there would be plenty of burgers, popcorn, chips, candy and ice cream for all, and Dean had built a large living room fort for the children to sleep in. Tomorrow, Nicholas, Maisie and Lucas would be over for a picnic at the pond. Nicholas wanted to introduce Clarissa, Tristan and Kaven to the puppies. Juliet had thought they should wait a couple weeks before introducing Clarissa to JT, James, Ben and his children as well as their enormous extended family. She wanted to take things slow and not overwhelm the child.

Dean went to the rear of the SUV, popped the hatch and pulled out a medium-sized box with a large CS marked on top. He was heartbroken that this was all Clarissa had as far as worldly possessions.

When Clarissa had been found and identified, her family had been over the moon. But they weren't a wealthy family, and their modest, three-bedroom home wasn't large enough for them, their current five children and to have a separate room for Clarissa. Clarissa had found it difficult to share with the other children, whom she'd found too boisterous and loud. In addition, having her attend school on the reservation had been a challenge, as the family lived forty-five minutes away. In the end the family had to admit they weren't able to give their daughter what she needed and balance the needs of the other five children. In truth, as they were an average family, they didn't understand the full extent of her trauma. They didn't know that the children had been kidnapped by witches. Her parents had contacted Doctor Etsitty and asked for solutions that would be best for their current family and Clarissa. When Maska Etsitty suggested putting Clarissa with a family where other kidnapped children were living and receiving treatment, all they asked was that they be kept informed about Clarissa's progress, in the hope that someday they could have some contact with their daughter.

Pulling out the box, Dean walked around to where Juliet was talking to Clarissa and Lomasi. Kaven and Tristan were looking around the yard and playing with the dogs while Caleb pointing out the barn and the pond.

"We don't live here," Caleb was saying, "but we'll being coming over a lot."

"Come on," Juliet said nervously. "I'll take you to your room."

When Clarissa didn't move, Lomasi held out her hand and sent a slight wave of soothing energy her friend's way.

Clarissa relaxed slightly and followed.

Inside, they climbed the stairs to Ben's old room. Dean had originally suggested using JT and James' room, but Juliet thought it might be too big, especially since Clarissa would sleep there on her own. She wanted the room to be cozy. Opening the door, Juliet stepped away and allowed Clarissa and Lomasi to enter first.

"Oooh," Lomasi cooed, her eyes going everywhere at once.

Dean had knocked out the upstairs hall closet and reduced the size of the closet in JT and James' former room. Into that space he'd placed Clarissa's bed, and built an elaborately carved canopy of wood over the top. Inside the small enclave, Caleb had painted the ceiling in a trompe l'oeil fashion to make it look like the night sky, and Dean and Juliet had attached dozens of tiny LED lights attached to a small on/off switch to simulate stars. They didn't want Clarissa to ever feel like she was in a cave again. The bed covers were green, cream and pink, and there were three very large stuffed animals on top: a cat, a dog and a teddy.

The walls in the room had been painted a pale shell pink, and there was a bookshelf filled with picture books as well as a few dolls and some games. There was a desk for Clarissa to do her homework, a computer, a couple stacks of tablets and dozens of colored pencils and crayons, as Doctor Etsitty said Clarissa had a talent for drawing and painting. Dean planned on having Caleb given her art lessons. Covering the hardwood floor was a soft pink, green, cream and lavender area rug. Right next to the bed was a small rollaway bed where Lomasi would sleep while she was here. Dean and Juliet planned on letting Lomasi and Clarissa do everything together for the first couple of days, then slowly lengthen time away from one another so Clarissa could get used to Juliet first, then Dean.

But the pièce de résistance, was the basket in the corner where meowing could be heard.

Clarissa glanced back at Juliet, who smiled and nodded. Slowly she walked to the basket and looked inside. Two small kittens looked up at her and meowed loudly. One was a ginger and white kitten with amber eyes, the other was a mixed color kitten with dark eyes. Turning to Juliet with wet eyes, she dropped to her knees and picked up first one kitten, then the other, cradling them in her arms and crying.

Lomasi looked up at Juliet, then moved outside the room into the hallway. Juliet walked over to the crying child and sat down on the floor at her side. Reaching out, she carefully touched the girl's back, rubbing it gently, and when she couldn't stand it any longer, she pulled Clarissa into her arms.

The child stiffened at first, then suddenly she dumped the kittens into Juliet's lap and threw her arms around her neck and cried like her world was ending, or maybe it was finally beginning.

Dean stood in the doorway watching. He wanted to go and comfort his new daughter too, but thought it best if Juliet undertook the initial bonding. He would have plenty of time in the weeks and months to come. However, before he could move away, Juliet looked up and motioned for him to come in.

Dean shook his head. She was doing fine.

But Juliet narrowed her eyes and he walked over. Quietly he lowered himself to the floor beside the two.

Clarissa lifted her head slightly from Juliet's shoulder and stared at Dean. He gave her a smile and winked. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

Juliet pulled away just a little, and said, "You're home. This is your room, these are your kittens. Those are your books," she pointed to the small green bookshelf, "and that's your bed." She touched Clarissa's face, running a hand over the soft, blond hair.

Clarissa stared all around the room, frowning. When she looked back at Juliet, she opened her mouth and said, "Mine?"

Juliet nodded. "Yours."

Suddenly there were steps on the stairs, and Sam stuck his head in the doorway, which resulted in Clarissa burying her head in Juliet's shoulder again. "We're ready downstairs," Sam said with a smile. Then he went back down.

Juliet leaned back again and said, "We're having a party downstairs. You, Lomasi, Kaven and Tristan are going to sleep in a fort! Won't that be fun?"

Clarissa's eyes went to Lomasi, who nodded and smiled. Then the young girl nodded to Juliet. Rising, Dean took Juliet's hand, then held out his for Clarissa to take. When she placed her hand shyly in his, he knew things would be all right.

"Ooh," Clarissa squeaked, looking down at the kittens, who were biting at her socks.

"Yeah," Dean said, "Let's take them too."

**.**

A few hours later, all four children were asleep on the floor, tucked into sleeping bags with additional blankets on top. There were kernels of popcorn scattered all over the floor, empty candy wrappers and cups of melted ice cream.

"We have to clean up this mess," Caleb remarked, eyes roving over the debris.

"I elect you," Onida commented with a yawn.

Caleb gave her a smile. "I think we can wait till morning."

Dean warned softly, "Nothing's going on in the guest room where little ears can hear."

Snorting softly, Caleb remarked, "Like you and Juliet never did it with the boys around."

"I think this conversation is finished," Juliet interrupted. Rising, she picked up a couple bowls of leftover popcorn and walked into the kitchen.

"Now you stepped in it," Sam whispered. Smirking, he went and picked up several empty ice cream bowls and followed Juliet.

Groaning softly, Dean rose. Quietly sidestepping popcorn and empty plates, he retrieved several scattered cups and a large bowl of candy. Once in the kitchen, he saw Sam was alone loading the dishwasher. "Where's Juliet?"

"Upstairs," Sam murmured.

Nodding, Dean stepped to the far side of the dishwasher, he started loading utensils and glasses.

Sam glanced at his brother a moment, then said, "You're worried; I get it. But whenever doubts come up, just remember you're doing the right thing."

Nodding, Dean said, "I will."

"And maybe someday I'll be able to have a child too. Doctor Etsitty said there were other families she was afraid might have to give up children. Maybe there'll be another boy, and I can help with him."

Setting the dishes down, Dean said, "We want Clarissa, no doubt. But if you wanted her, why didn't you speak up?" He hated to think that Sam wanted her and felt like he couldn't handle her. Dean knew he could.

"Number one," Sam stated, "You and Juliet are perfect for her. Number two…" he broke off on a sigh.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I need to get myself sorted out," Sam mumbled quickly.

Dean frowned for a moment, then a slow grin crossed his face. "You want to get hooked up again."

Sam blushed. "Yeah, maybe. Mary's grown and will graduate college next year. Caleb's been able to arrange his life around Onida. Maybe it's time I looked for someone to share my life with again."

"I think that's great," Dean said, the wheels already turning in his head. Were there any unattached women in the Brotherhood offices? It wasn't like they would trip over another Onida on a hunt. He thought that had been a once in a lifetime moment. But maybe there was someone in the offices who already knew about hunting, and…

"Oh, hang on there," Sam said, reading the expression on his brother's face like a book. "I'll take care of my own relationships, thank you. I don't need your help."

"You don't exactly bat a thousand in the relationship department, little brother," Dean said.

"What?" Sam exclaimed, outraged.

"Lydia hated all of us…"

"She did not," Sam argued.

Dean gave a small shrug. While he would concede that Lydia didn't outright hate them, she was definitely not fond of Sam's extended family save for Mac, Joshua and Carolyn, and none of them were even blood related. "And before her there was Andrea in New York..."

"I didn't know she was that into the New Age stuff."

"Before that, Meaghan…"

"You dated a lot of girls too," Sam protested.

"Then there was Meg…"

"Hey," Sam snapped in annoyance, cutting Dean off. "We are not going back to that time."

Dean shut up and nodded. "You're right, sorry."

Sam sighed and dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. "This is going to be impossible, isn't it? Finding someone who might accept the supernatural and what we do."

Pulling out a chair beside his brother, Dean sat. "It's not easy. I was resigned to never having a family before Juliet. And when she found out about what we do," he sighed.

Sam nodded. He remembered the despondency Dean had tried desperately to hide when Juliet discovered what they did and left. She'd thought they were all crazy.

"I count myself very lucky Juliet stayed. And after all these years, Caleb found Onida. Joshua found Carolyn, and she was inside the Brotherhood. Elijah has Jane and Ethan has Connie. Riley and Bradley have families. And you found Lydia. No, she didn't care for us, but she loved _you_," Dean said. "That was the most important thing."

"Yeah," Sam whispered. Maybe it wouldn't be so impossible.

"Have you kept tabs on Sarah?" Dean knew that for several years after he'd met Sarah Blake, she and Sam had kept in touch via email. Twice he'd even gone back for a visit.

"Not for the last ten years or so," Sam admitted. "She's married to a search and rescue worker, and had taken over her father's art gallery. She has a daughter named Beth."

"Maybe that's a relationship you can follow up on," Dean suggested. "You guys really had something, and she knows what we do."

"Maybe," Sam said. "The Brotherhood has grown a lot in the last twenty years, with more people involved, in the New York offices and Ben's medical pipeline. Maybe there's someone out there for me who already knows what we do."

Dean nodded, his mind running a mile a minute. He hadn't even thought of the medical field.

"There are a couple of professors at the University that have shown some interest in getting together," Sam added. Nodding, he got up and finished putting the bowls into the dishwasher. "I guess what I'm saying is that I'm ready to give a relationship another try."

"I'll help however I can," Dean said.

"No, you won't," Sam interjected. "I can do this on my own."

"What's the fun in that?" Dean commented.

Juliet heard a thwacking sound that could only be Sam hitting Dean with a dishtowel as she stepped back from the doorway. Silently she headed back upstairs, smiling. Sam wanted a relationship again. She was so excited. She planned on putting in a call to Carolyn at the first opportunity. They needed to put their heads together and find Sam a girl.

**.**

In the living room, Onida leaned into Caleb's side, smiling. She could hear Dean and Sam talking quietly in the kitchen, and knew she and Caleb should probably get up and help with the clean up. But she was enjoying watching their two boys sleep. "I'm so excited and scared at the same time," she whispered.

"Yeah, me too," Caleb murmured. "But I know we can do this."

"How?"

"Because we both know what loneliness is, what wanting feels like, we know the need to be loved." Caleb looked at Onida and felt such love, it was blinding. "They may act out, test us, worry that we don't really want them, but they'll come to realize that they're safe, they're wanted, and they're loved."

"And how do you know that?"

Caleb smiled and looked back at the two little heads of black and auburn hair. "Experience."

.

_Spring 1984_

Mackland Ames' sudden nerves had him wondering if he'd been mad to take on the responsibility of a thirteen year old boy whom he'd recently helped liberate from a psychiatric asylum. It had been an emotional few months going through endless interviews with Social Services and Child Protective Services, having his home checked out for appropriate space for Caleb, putting his friends through interviews regarding his character. He had even fought Caleb's guardian Bird Isbell for custody, and she hadn't wanted to give him up. Finally, he'd been able to pick up the young man from Juvenile Detention and take him home. He was nervous, he couldn't deny it.

Unlocking the door, he swung it open to allow the thirteen year old to enter.

"Fancy," was all Caleb said. His insides were fluttering around like moths. He'd been so certain over the months that Mac would back out, and he'd be left in Juvie. That he was even here at all was surreal. He expected the man to say at any moment, _This is only temporary_.

"Come," Mac said, smiling down at the child. "Let me show you around."

Mac showed Caleb the living and dining rooms, his study, which he stressed was off limits. He then showed him the way to the kitchen. "Whenever you're hungry, there's food in the fridge, fruit on the counter. There are snacks in the cabinet, but I'll limit those if you eat them to the exclusion of fruit," Mac warned casually.

Caleb frowned, looking around the massive kitchen space. "I can get stuff myself?"

Mac nodded. "If you're hungry, yes."

"Whenever I want?" Caleb asked again, not understanding. In foster care, food had been off limits unless he'd asked permission. At the hospital food was brought, and in Juvie he ate only at meal times. He thought he'd eaten what he wanted at his grandmothers, but that was a long time ago, a memory cloaked in fog.

Mac put a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "This is your home, Caleb. Yes, there will be rules, and I'll insist on a balance of fresh food with the snacks, but if you're hungry, eat something."

Caleb merely nodded, still not fully accepting this new largess.

Then Mac had shown him the den and the entertainment equipment. "This is the remote for the television, and the VCR," he held up second remote. Waving a hand at some glass fronted wooden cabinets, he continued, "There are several movie choices inside. Watch whatever you like." Eyeing the young man, he said, "There are parental controls on the television so some channels will be off limits."

Caleb rolled his eyes.

Lastly, Mac led the way down a hallway, pointed out a guest bedroom, then his own room. Finally, he opened a door and stood back.

Glancing up with caution, Caleb had peeked inside, and saw the biggest most awesome bedroom he'd ever seen. "Is this your second bedroom?"

"No," Mac said softly. "This is your bedroom, Caleb."

Eyes wide in disbelief, Caleb walked slowly inside. His duffle hit the floor as he looked around. There was a large, four-poster bed piled with blankets and pillows. A book shelf stood beneath the window, holding several volumes of classic tombs as well as paperbacks. A large dresser stood opposite the bed, with a small television on top.

"That," Mac said, pointing to the TV, "goes off at eleven. It's timed."

Caleb smirked. There were a couple of leather chairs, and a desk piled with several tablets and some charcoal sticks.

"Bird said you liked to draw," Mac explained.

Caleb merely nodded and walked over to the closet. Opening it, he saw there were a few pairs of jeans, some shirts, tee shirts, a pair of boots and a few pairs of sneakers inside.

"We'll be getting you more clothes, since you'll be starting school next fall. We'll pick those out together."

"No school now?" Caleb asked.

"You'll have a tutor for now, since the spring session is already underway. But next fall you'll go to school."

Caleb turned and stared at Mac, scared to believe this was really his.

Mac only smiled. "Welcome home, Caleb."

Late that night after the house had long been quiet, Caleb climbed from his bed and picked up his frayed, ratty duffel. First he pulled an already-worn copy of The Three Musketeers from inside. Mackland had read this book to him in the asylum, and had given it to him as a gift. Next, he reached carefully into a hidden pocket and pulled out a playing card. This was the only piece of his former life that had remained after it had been destroyed. Holding the battered deuce of spades, he studied the card, remembering the joy it had represented. Slowly he placed it within the pages of the cherished book and lay both on his nightstand. As he climbed back in bed, he wondered what the future would hold. Maybe, just maybe he could have a second chance at everything that card and the book represented: a family.

Those early years with Mac had been a joyous liberation, a struggle with fear, a battle for control and a testing of Mac to make sure the man really wanted him there. In the end, Caleb was able to rest fully in the certainty that he was wanted, and that there was nothing he could do that would make Mac let him go.

.

"I didn't make things easy for him, but he never made me feel unwanted or unloved. He was the strong moor in my storms." Caleb felt his eyes moisten. Seeing Mac last month had been a gift. But it had also made the days that followed tough to navigate, he missed him so much.

Onida dropped her head to Caleb's shoulder and allowed some gentle white light to flitter into his body, easing his pain. "His legacy lives on in us, and we know he sees everything we do."

"Yeah," Caleb sniffed slightly. "And he'll have a good laugh at my expense, after what I put him through back then."

"Maybe," Onida said, "but he'll be cheering you on more. That's Mac."

"Yeah," Caleb whispered. "It is."

Dressed in her footed PJs, Juliet leaned against the wall leading into the living room. She had stayed away from Caleb and Onida's whispered conversation, giving them some privacy. Soon, they would go to bed, and she would climb onto the sofa, ready if Clarissa needed her on this first night in her new home. When Dean came up behind her, she smiled and glanced over her shoulder. "Where's Sam?"

"Upstairs in bed," Dean murmured. Leaning in, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close.

"We're really doing this," she murmured, her eyes on Clarissa as the child's fingers touched the kittens, even in her sleep.

"Yes we are," Dean whispered. They'd taken the plunge and brought home a traumatized ten year old girl. He couldn't deny he'd felt worried and anxious, wondering if they'd made the right decision. After all, when you took a child into your home, it was forever. He'd definitely had his doubts. But it was the dream he'd had last night that had let him know they'd made the right decision.

_Dean had found himself sitting at the kitchen table, a warm up of coffee in his hand. When a clacking had sounded off to his left, he looked around. "Pastor Jim!" _

"_My boy," Jim said, his eyes twinkling. He poured himself a cup, then picked up a plate of cookies and sat down right next to Dean._

_Suddenly Dean asked, "Is there something wrong? Someone in trouble?" _

"_No, my boy, nothing's wrong. I'm here because someone needed a quick word."_

_Dean frowned. Then the backdoor opened, and his eyes widened as John came inside. Rising, he said, "Dad!"_

_John grinned and held Dean in his arms for a long moment before he released his son._

"_What's going on?" Dean asked, watching John pour himself a cup of coffee. He loved the normalcy of it all. _

_After John was seated at the table and had taken a large gulp of the hot brew, he said, "I just wanted to tell you I'm excited about having another granddaughter."_

_Dean goggled. "I… How…"_

"_Words, son, use your words," John said with a wicked twinkle in his eye, one that reminded Dean so much of Sam. "We see much in heaven, and I'm so glad you're giving Clarissa a good home. You excel at being a father, much more than I ever did. I will enjoy watching her grown up."_

_Feeling his face grow warm even in the dream, Dean didn't protest John's declaration that he wasn't a good father. For a good portion of their lives, he hadn't been. But he'd been a good dad when it counted, and this was one of those times. His heart had eased and the worry about whether he and Juliet had made the right decision faded. Smiling, he said simply, "Thanks, Dad."_

_._

The End

* * *

_Author's Notes: SPOILER! Sarah Blake was introduced in S1:E19 and was a fan favorite girl for Sam. I know in the series Sarah was killed in S8:E22. But since Ridley's Brotherhood AU diverts from the series at the end of S5, I didn't mind mentioning her here._

_**Thank you all **for coming along on this adventure with me. I want to give out a special thanks to my friend **Anna**, who encouraged me to keep in the Merlin section, and read and advised me on this story every inch of the way._

_To all those who took the time to review - Shazza19, Anna, summerb7l21, cyenthia 30, impala1979, bingos-gal, Dede, my guest reviewers, kathyrebhansar, hollylilly22, Iowa Kat, 10fandomsandcounting, SPNfan, and Tsweeny! - Thank you! Reading your thoughts on the chapters was wonderful and much appreciated._

_**Another Brotherhood Story**__: I have been thinking about a third Brotherhood: AU story. When I get something started, I'll post that information on my Fanfiction homepage so you guys know. And when it's completed, it'll be posted. Thank you all!_

**_summerb7l21_**_: You called it! Adam was offered a ring! And we know that Dean could never leave a child without a home. I only hope there was enough unpredictable in the tale that the predictable was forgivable! As for requests, the requests would be contingent on whether it suited the characters as they were presented on the show or in Ridley's AU, and I could work it into the story naturally. Since I've only a vague outline for a new story, now would be the time to make one! Can't wait to hear your thoughts._


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